#i wanted him 2 look like he was rotting :3 it just seems fitting for him. i must practice this technique further | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

enwrites · 11 months

Text

Cloud Nine (p.sh)

parings: brother’s bff!sunghoon x afab!reader

warning: 18+ MDNI !! not proofread (sorry for mistakes)

genre/cw: smut, e2l, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, sunghoon is a creep kinda, brother’s best friend trope, spit play, oral (male receiving), pillow riding, degradation, size kink, strength play, choking, breeding, spanking, sunghoon is pretty mean to reader, one year age gap, jay is your brother (lmk if anything was missed!)

synopsis: You and Sunghoon have never gotten along. Ever. Constant bickering and fights to the point your brother is fed up as well. What no one knew was how badly you wanted Sunghoon spewing those same words to your face in your bed. What happens when he sees something he shouldn’t have seen?

wc: 3.6k words

a/n: hi hi !! this is my first ever fic on here !! pls let me know how this was and im happy to receive any feedback <3 a hee fic is currently in the works, i just had sunghoon brain rot so i needed to let this one out LOL (update: part two coming soon ;))

[ masterlist ] [ part 2 ]

From as long as you remember, you have always hated your brother’s best friend— Park Sunghoon. Nothing about him amused you and you especially hated the way he always seems to be at your house every weekend. You couldn’t escape him. From his annoying laugh to his stupid ego, you hated everything.

But you couldn’t help but be so attracted to him. Yes, he was annoying but man was he just everything in a package. Tall and gorgeous… not to mention his insanely fit body. You couldn’t help but wonder how big he’d be, hovering over your small frame. But everything disappears in an instant the moment you hear loud knocks on your door.

“Y/n can you get that! It’s Sunghoon!” your brother Jay yells at you from the kitchen. The knocks persist as you stay put, pretending to ignore your older brother as it was his friend anyways. Why should you open the door for a monster? “Y/n please, I’ll make you something to eat too,” your brother begs you. With a loud groan you mutter a “fine” and drag yourself off the couch, heading to the door to open it. Before he could loudly bang on the door once more, you pull the door open. He looks at you with a disgusted face.

“Ugh, did not wanna see your face at the door,” he spits, walking past you making sure to bump your shoulder with his. You slam the door shut giving an annoyed smile back at him.

“If you had forgotten, this has been my house forever, you’re lucky I even open the door for heathens like you,” you spit back, your voice laced with venom. He squints his eyes at you, sticking his tongue out as he makes his way towards the kitchen. “Jay, can you tell your annoying little sister to shut the hell up for once oh my god,” Sunghoon complained to Jay as he walked into the Kitchen.

“How about you both shut the hell up,” Jay annoyedly said rolling his eyes as he put the pizza he’s been working on in the oven. He was never fond of the both of you constantly barking at one another. He thought maybe he was insane for thinking he felt some sort of tension between the two of you. He loved you both but seriously wished he could sew both of your mouths together whenever he felt like it.

“HE STARTED IT!” You yelled in protest. You crossed your arms as you stood at the kitchen doorway, Sunghoon sticking his tongue out at you once again before turning to Jay.

“I don’t care who started it, can you both just give me a single day of peace!” Jay exclaims letting out a sigh. A migraine was surely going to form sooner or later for him. Before you both can protest, he ushers the both of you out so that he can finish making the pizzas with some sanity left. You both grumpily make your way to the couch and sit on opposite ends. To your surprise, at least your favorite show was playing when you got back to your seat on the couch.

“This show is so stupid, I’m changing it,” Sunghoon says as he reaches for the remote on the coffee table. Before he could get it, you immediately jumped up and grabbed the remote first.

“NO. This is my favorite show and my house, I’m not letting you change anything,” you loudly said to him. But he wasn’t going to let you go easily.

“I don’t give a flying fuck if this is your favorite show or not, I wanna watch something else,” He spits back. With that, he lunges at you towards the remote. You hurriedly crawl back to where you were, making sure he couldn’t take the remote away from you.

“Sunghoon stop it,” You struggled to let out as he was enclosing you on the couch. Your breath starts to hitch the closer he gets to you. You could feel him breathing on you. He pins you beneath him, his arms longer than yours as he reaches for the remote you try to hold behind your head. Sunghoon didn’t realize how compromising of a position you both were in until he finally reached for the remote in your hands and looked down at you.

There you were, under him, staring back at him with your doe eyes, crop top hiked up just a bit to where your bra was showing. He didn’t realize how short your shorts really were until now. Eying you up and down, he licks his lips. His thoughts were interrupted with you trying to get him off of you. You have come to your senses and realized how turned on he had just made you, immediately trying to push him off. He just pins your arms down more, inching closer to your ear.

“Stupid girls like you don’t deserve to do things they wanna do,” he whispers. His hot breath sends tingles down your body and you swear you get a little wetter. You try to push him off once more but he doesn’t budge. “Are you going to apologize to me for being so annoying now?” he asks. He looks at you, finding it amusing the way you’re struggling under him right now. He can’t help but think how you’d look naked under him. Sunghoon has always had a thing for you.

“Apologize for what? For your mother raising a dickface, that's you?” you bite back, rolling your eyes at him. Before he could say anything, Jay yells from

in the kitchen the pizzas are done. Sunghoon loosens his grip which gives you the perfect opportunity to push him down and onto the floor, scurrying your way towards your brother. Sunghoon gets up shaking his head… this wasn’t over for him.

Hours passed since your little altercation with Sunghoon earlier in the living room. You couldn’t get him out of your head. Your mind was racing and it didn’t help that he wore his stupid gray sweatpants once again. Thinking about the way he pinned you down and whispered in your ear was enough to get you excited again. With that, you take your shorts and crop top off, leaving you in just your lace undergarments underneath. You just so happened to put on a white matching set— Sunghoon’s favorite color.

To the thought of Sunghoon, you lean back down onto your bed and start to rub small circles on your panty covered clit. It’s embarrassing how wet you already were just thinking about him. You rub just a bit more, sliding your fingers up and down your pussy, feeling the wetness that pooled down there. But this wasn’t enough. You were so desperate and in need of something to satisfy you. You sit up, grabbing the second pillow beside you, putting it beneath you.

Folding it just a bit, you straddle it. Slowly grinding down onto the pillow under you, imagining yourself riding Sunghoon. You hump the pillow in desperation, trying to get off. You grind and grind, wishing Sunghoon’s cock filled you up instead.

Unbeknownst to you, Jay had fallen asleep to the movie he and Sunghoon were watching. Realizing that his friend was asleep, he decided to make his way to find you, just to mess with you again. He always found it so cute how annoyed you’d get to his teasing. But today was different, he wanted more. If it weren’t for Jay, he swears he would’ve taken you on the couch right there and then. Making his way down the long hall towards your room, he notices a faint light coming from the small crack of your door. He carefully steps closer and to his surprise, the sight before him was nothing he ever expected to see in a million years.

There you were, on your bed, wearing nothing but a skimpy lace lingerie set, grinding down on a pillow so desperately. He watches you, making sure he stays as quiet as possible to not get caught. There you were, humping a pillow, your hips grinding over and over, letting out the cutest sounds he has ever heard. Did you know your door was a bit cracked? Who cares, he was enjoying the view.

Sunghoon palms himself as he watches you, not wanting to even blink in fear of missing the show. He just couldn’t believe this was happening. Before the realization of him being a creep watching you pleasure yourself through the crack of your door, that’s when he hears it. You had moaned his name. His dick twitched in his pants, painfully hard and needing to be released.

“S-Sunghoon, you feel so good,” you moaned, increasing your speed on the pillow. He swore he was gonna explode right then and there. He had to have you. But he knew he had to punish you as well. He pushes the door open even more and to his surprise you hadn’t noticed yet. Hell, you haven’t even noticed the fact that he closed the door before him as well.

Loss in your trance, Sunghoon watched you just for a bit before making his move. He clears his throat to get your attention. Startled, you urgently grabbed your blanket to cover yourself, shocked to see Sunghoon in your room. There he looked at you with a smug smile painted on his face.

You swore you saw evil behind those eyes.

“Oh don’t stop now, I was enjoying my show,” he pouts, walking closer to you, standing in front of your bed. “Go on, I’m here now, isn’t that what you wanted?” he asked in a cheeky tone. Your face was red and embarrassment washed over you. You wanted to run away. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights.

“I’m not gonna tell you again, go on, continue what you were doing,” he demanded, pulling your blanket off of you. You were at a loss for words. But something in you gave into him. You start to straddle the pillow again, grinding your pussy against it. Embarrassed, you tilt your head down, trying to avoid any eye contact. You can’t help but get so turned on as he watches you. You hump your pillow desperately letting out whines and moans, trying your best to not be too loud.

“Hoonie~,” You moaned loudly, humping your pillow as you grew wetter. You felt so dirty. You couldn’t believe this was happening right now. You felt like you were on cloud nine and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

Sunghoon smirks, he takes in the scene in front of him, he couldn’t take it anymore and slips his pants down, freeing his hard on. He starts to slowly stroke, watching you as you pleasure yourself. His tip was red and angry, leaking a bit of precum already. He wanted to see more of you.

“Take your bra off,” he demands. You look up at him, shocked to see him pleasuring himself. The sight of his cock making your mouth water. He was huge. No way you can fit that in you, you don’t even think it’ll fit in your mouth. Nevertheless, you obliged and took your bra off, your boobs slowly falling out of the cups. Embarrassed, you try to cover yourself again. He takes his pants and boxers off right away, signaling for you to get closer to him. He needed to feel your mouth on him.

“As much as I love to see you getting yourself off, I need your pretty little mouth on my cock right now,” he said, sitting down on the bed beside you. He pushes you off the bed and onto your knees right in front of him. Watching you carefully, he grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes your face against his cock.

“Open wide,” he instructs, hand still in your hair. You reach your hand up to his shaft, opening your mouth to finally get a taste of him. His tip was already leaking. You put his tip in your mouth. He lets out low groans, guiding you as he grips onto your hair even more. As you expected, he definitely could not fit into your mouth. So using your hand that was on his shaft, you start to stroke him as you suck him off. Getting lost in the pleaser, he needed to be down your throat and that he was gonna do.

“Hands behind your back now,” he firmly said, the tone of his voice catching you off guard but you obliged, your panties getting stickier as the seconds passed. You put your hands behind your back and he starts to buck his hips, his tip reaching further and further down your throat. The sound of him groaning fills the room immediately. You just prayed to the lord your brother was sound asleep.

With his dick down your throat, you can’t help but feel so turned on. This was dirty, you’ve never deepthroat a dick in your life. Well dicks as big as Sunghoon’s. He watches you, making sure to keep eye contact.

“I’ve always known you were a little whore, but letting me fuck your little mouth while your brother’s asleep down the hall?” he grunts out, slamming his cock in and out of your mouth. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, taking in the pleasure. He felt as if he was in a dream. Your eyes teary as all you can let out are moans against his dick. Being too turned on, you snaked your hand from behind your back and into your panties. You attempt to rub your clit as he fucks into your mouth. Now it was your turn to close your eyes from the intense pleasure. Your moans intensify, catching Sunghoon’s attention.

There he saw you, touching yourself. As much as he enjoyed watching you get off, never did he allow you to pleasure yourself as you were pleasuring him. He forcefully tugs you by your hair and off his cock, shaking his head at you as if he was disappointed. You take this time to catch your breath, puzzled at why he suddenly stopped. He then pulls you up by your hair, making sure you were eye level with him. He takes his other hand and grabs your face, squishing your cheeks to make sure you were looking right into his eyes. Chills ran through your body.

“Did I say you can touch yourself?” he quietly asks, you can feel his breath on your face. You shake your head, looking pitiful in his eyes. “Did I say you can touch yourself?” he repeats, that venomous tone coming back to his voice. You were nervous.

“N-No…,” you shakily said. Your breathing intensifies. Sunghoon lets out an almost evil laugh. “I guess this little slut needs a punishment.”

With that, he tosses you onto the bed. With your backside up, he drags your body to the edge. Standing right behind you, your legs hanging off, he starts to caress your cheeks. Taking in the beauty of your backside, it took everything in him to not take you right there and then.

“Take your panties off,” he demands. You angle your butt up just a bit and reach behind you, slowly pulling them down, making sure he sees everything. He was watching you as if you were his prey and he was about to get ready to feast on a meal. The glistening sheen of your arousal stares back at him as you fully remove your panties. He couldn’t wait to have you. He makes his way closer to you, one hand on your ass and the other sliding up and down your folds. You were soaking, practically dripping down your legs.

“Please… touch me Hoonie…,” you softly spoke, the lack of physical action killing you on the inside. Still painfully hard and turned on, he swore he was going to explode right there, hearing your soft voice begging for him to touch you. Before you could speak up again, he spanks you. Caught off guard, you let out a yelp, the action turning you on even more. And then again, a spank lands onto your cheeks. His other hand’s still feeling your wetness, teasing you in an agonizing way. “I wanna hear you beg.”

You shiver a bit as his voice drops even lower than before. You couldn’t believe you were letting him do this to you in the first place. Feeling a sense of pride wash over, you were getting a bit fed up and were about to protest until yet another slap landed onto your cheek. This time harder than the previous two.

“I said– beg,” he leaned down and whispered in your ear. You gulp, feeling trapped beneath him.

“Hoonie please… need you so bad,” every sense of pride and dignity was thrown out the window as you let those words out of your mouth. “Sorry I can’t hear you. What did you say?” he snickers back, egging you on. With one hand now on your waist and the other rubbing his tip up and down your slick folds, he needed to hear you say it one more time. Too horny to even fight back, you crumbled beneath him, just wanting his cock in you as soon as possible.

“Sunghoon please fuck me already, I need your cock in me right now!” you loudly said, he leans back down and into your ear he whispers a “good girl.” He pushes his tip into you, already feeling like your pussy was sucking him in. You both let out a moan. He felt so big in you and it was just the tip.

“S-So… big …,” you muttered. He chuckles. “It’s just the tip baby, can’t handle my cock already?” he presses. You shake your head letting out a tiny squeal and he enters you even more. Fully into you, you felt as if you were being stretched out to the max, no way could you handle this. Yet your pussy was craving more.

Sunghoon couldn't handle it, without giving you any proper time to adjust, he starts stroking into you. Grabbing onto your waist with both of his hands, he fucks you hard on the edge of the bed. Seeing your small frame beneath him and the way your body was just engulfed by his hands, he gets even more turned on.

“So fucking tight Y/n, so fucking wet and all for me– is that right doll?” he grunts out as he slams his cock into you, trying his hardest not to cum. But your cute little moans were making it so hard for him, he felt so lost in the pleasure.

“Y-Yes all y-yours Hoonie~,” you moan loudly, not a single worry in your body. Just you and Sunghoon. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to see your face. In a swift second, Sunghoon flips you over, still standing at the edge of the bed, he puts your legs over his shoulders as he pumps deeper into you. Fucking you into your bed, he leans down, grabbing your face he pulls you into a heated kiss. Your lips mesh together like they’ve been dying for this moment all their lives. He reaches down to your neck, giving it a small squeeze, startled, you open your mouth which gives him access to stick his tongue. Your tongues dance with one other, Sunghoon starting to feel drunk off of you. After what felt like forever, he pulls back, hand on your jaw, holding your mouth open. He spits in it. You let out a loud whiny moan, feeling more aroused than ever before in your life. You instantly swallow, making him lose his mind.

“You’re such a filthy little slut, swallowing my spit, letting me fuck you like this, is this what you wanted– huh?” He speaks to you, all you could get out were little yelps of “yes.” With your arms snaked around his neck, he pushes your legs off from his shoulders, shocking you he lifts you up off the bed and starts to pound into you harder and harder. You knew Sunghoon was fit but you didn’t know he was that fit. Taking you by surprise with this new angle, he holds you up as he fucks you hard, his pace increasing. You start to feel a knot in your stomach form, getting so close to your climax. Your pussy clenching around him, so tight and pulsating, he knew he was getting close as well. Room filled entirely of moans, skin slapping, and the smell of sex, you needed him to fill you up.

Before you knew it, with one hard pump, you screamed, cumming all over his cock. Overstimulated, he sets you back down onto the bed, helping you ride out your orgasm as he was soon to reach his. The feeling of your wetness and your cum all mixed into one was enough for him to unload right into you. With a few more strokes, he releases, holding onto your body as he rides out his own climax, pumping his seed into you. You felt so full and exhausted. He carefully pulls out, watching as his cum spills out from your pussy. It was a sight he never wanted to forget. He quickly grabs his phone to capture the moment, fingering his load that was spilling out of you back into your hole. You couldn’t help but blush, feeling a bit embarrassed. Sunghoon lays beside you, as he trails kisses along your neck.

“Fuck– you’re all mine,” he said against your neck. Before any realization could hit the both of you as to what you guys just did with one another, the distinct sound of buzzing came from both of your phones. Your faces went pale.

*Jay added Y/n and Sunghoon to a group.*

Jay: You guys are fucking disgusting.

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pomefioredove · 15 days

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Just read the whole "Yuu gets sold off by Crowley" stories and OMLLL THEYRE SO GOOD XDDD Any chance you could do more on it like if Niege won or if the parents heard about it and also decided to adopt Yuu and Grim?? Maybe the other staff adopting her too or more on Crewel's adoption please???

requests for the crewel ending are in high demand I see...

summary: a crewel ending type of post: short fic, mostly speculation characters: crewel ft. other staff additional info: platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, definitely pre-book seven, parents being cringe

If Crewel were allowed to beat Crowley to death with one of his designer handbags, he would have.

...Unfortunately, with the adoption paperwork fees (...and a need for more designer handbags), he regrettably still needs this job.

And he'd like to keep an eye on you while you're still here, too.

The animosity between Crowley and the rest of the staff is unspoken, shared through passing glances and dry remarks at meetings, and though the matter is "settled", in Crowley's own words, no one seems keen on letting it go anytime soon.

The students who participated in the bidding war are subject to months worth of extra homework, harder exams, and worse studying hours from Crewel himself. To teach them a little responsibility, he says.

You, at least, are exempt from his radical new lesson plan. You have enough on your plate as it is.

After all, as soon as the legal proceedings are through and your identity as an autonomous human being in Twisted Wonderland is secured, the "fun" begins.

Your uniforms are tailored and rightly fit, you're given a proper meal plan, even Ramshackle is decorated with a few of Crewel's personal touches. A throw rug here and there, a fresh coat of paint, anything to cover up the rotting interior and turning it into something worthy of envy.

"...Given that Grim doesn't start shedding everywhere," Crewel had said. "Ugh, pets."

The rest of the staff are just as helpful, citing your recent experience with the bidding war as reason to take it easier on you for a while (or for the rest of the semester, really). Trein gives you less homework, Sam "accidentally" doesn't ring you up a few items...

It starts to feel more like the entirety of the staff has adopted you.

Not that you mind, of course. This is the closest thing you've had to family since... well, since coming here.

There's just the one thing, though.

"I don't know why you waste your time with those untrained pups. Honestly. The idea of their tacky shoes touching the rugs in here..." Crewel sighs. His eyes turn to you. "You know, I hear Vil Schoenheit has been looking for someone to take to his next shoot..."

Ashton chuffs. "Don't be ridiculous, they need someone who's strong enough to take care of them! Kingscholar is a real star once he gets motivated,"

"Please tell me I didn't just hear that," Crewel massages his temples. "And might I add, I'm their father, not you. I give the blessing. You're more like the unwelcome uncle crashing the family barbeque."

Grim nudges you with his elbow, muttering a quick yikes before darting out of the kitchen. You groan in embarrassment. "Guys..."

"I'm just thinking about what's best for them," Ashton says, puffing out his chest. "They're at an age where they're going to start thinking about dating, and we want them to make good choices."

"Guys,"

"Exactly. Schoenheit is a perfect gentleman, a master in my class, and has the style to back him up. Kingscholar can demonstrate occasional intelligence, but he's still another housecat," he shudders. "The shedding..."

A tired voice from the doorway interrupts their tense back-and-forth, much to your relief.

"Goodness, the two of you, at this again?" Trein scoffs, taking a seat at the table. "This conversation is highly inappropriate. You shouldn't be controlling the poor thing's romantic prospects, if they even have them. When the time comes, the choice will be theirs to make."

Crewel huffs, rolling his eyes and leaning against the table. Ashton kicks his feet. And neither utter another word.

"Good," Trein says, then clears his throat. "Ahem. But that's not to say that we can't offer our guidance. That Vanrouge did quite well on the last History of Magic exam..."

You groan.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #staff parents being EMBARRASSING and CRINGE compilation #queued

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sinner-sunflower · 3 months

Text

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 12/?

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22

Fun fact:

I was supposed to include Heaven in this. The og plot was like Heaven was already friendly with them- like Luci's siblings, and they were supposed to be in the meeting back in chapter 4 and 5.

The argument would have been that Heaven is bound to help because Roo won't stop at Hell and it will eventually reach Heaven, making it their problem too.

But obviously I had a change of plans and I think this plot would be better.

A plot fit for a possible sequel, one might say.

Apologies for the shortness of the chapter but thank you still for the constant support! Your likes, reblogs, and comments are the things that give me inspiration to do this every day!

----------------------------------------------------

The good news is the problem has not reached any of the upper rings in his absence. The bad news? Sloth is almost devoured.

Overgrown roots have enveloped the main city's buildings, he can't even see the Goetia territory anymore. The blood-red flowers are still spewing black miasma and he can feel it slightly burn his skin.

Lucifer thinks that this is what real Hell looks like.

This means that everyone is just exerting enough power to keep it at bay but not enough to fully stop it. Lucifer was right in his decision to look for Goodie. Speaking of Goodie- the embodiment of good barely reacts. If she's being burned by the mist, she's doing a pretty good job of not showing it.

Goodie: Oh my. What trouble you are causing, Roo.

A fucking understatement but Lucifer won't argue. This is trouble, but a million times worse.

Lucifer: Let's go.

----------------------------------------------------

At one corner of Sloth, the Sins and the other higher powers of Hell have just finished another round of the sealing ritual. They've been going at it a month straight, there is no end in sight, and they are exhausted. Even Alastor is mostly drained as he is leaning a lot on his cane.

Beelzebub: Fuck! I knew this wasn't going to be easy but what the fuck?!

Someone scoffs.

Vox: Maybe if our dear king is here this would be over. Like, where the fuck is he huh??

Leviathan: Don't forget who you are speaking to, filthy sinner!

Vox: Oh boohoo. If we're all gonna die anyway, why should I be afraid of you? Should've known that absentee of a ruler left us all to rot after damning us here in the first place-

Vox suddenly finds a giant hand wrapped around his throat. It took him a few seconds of reconfiguration before he clearly saw who the fuck-

Vox: Fuckin- gah! Alastor!

Alastor has transformed into a taller, lankier, and more sinister of himself. Eyes turned into radio dials, face, and body adorned with glowing green stitches like a puppet whose master has on a string.

Alastor: Shouldn't frivolous televisions come with a silent setting?

Vox: Fuck! Off!

Alastor: Hahaha! What is the matter, Vox? You seem to have developed the illusion that you are the strongest person in the room. Shall I remind you of what came about your moth friend?

Velvette: You better let him go, old man!

Velvette yelled to back up Vox. She flinches as Alastor turns his head in her direction with a sickening snap of his neck.

Not wanting to back off, she was about to argue more when Carmila stepped in.

Carmila: Velvette! Cease this at once. Do you and the Vees have no self-preservation??

Velvette: Well- I- Vox's right and you lot know it! Great Lucifer called us all here, basically threatened us to help him fix a mess he caused, then fucks off to God knows where leaving us to practically kill ourselves for a mess, again, HE CAUSED!

The Sins and Goetia's have now transformed into their more monstrous forms at hearing the disrespect the lowly sinner said about their King.

Velvette and Vox are saved from near-permanent death by a commanding voice.

Lucifer: Kneel.

Everyone's bodies acted on their own. Their knees bled from the sudden contact on the ground.

None of them could move- try as they might. Their air became heavier, plus with the miasma, a lot of them were gasping for air. Nothing is coming in. They can't breathe. They can't-

They look up to see the King of Hell and an unknown woman. Unknown to most but the Sins very much recognize her as indicated by the widening of their eyes.

Satan: Goodie!

The woman giggles and waves cheerfully as if there wasn't a looming threat in the air.

Goodie: My, my. What big mouths you have~

----------------------------------------------------

What to look forward to in Part 13:

Some talks and reprimanding.

Another round of ritual.

The situation becomes worse.

Lucifer and Goodie's solution.

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flowhore · 2 years

Text

𝔏𝔢𝔱'𝔰 𝔤𝔢𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔲𝔭

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔱𝔴𝔬

𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 ˚ Eddie Munson x (f)reader

𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒 ˚ you and your bestie (Joan) decide to have a sleepover at the trailer park, giving you the chance to finally meet the loud-mouthed metalhead from school.

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 ˚ eighteen+ content, minors dni, drug use, praise kink if u squint, hair play, a pinch of dom Eddie, dry humping, fingering, f receiving oral.

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 ˚ 8.8k

𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑝𝑜 ˚ Let's get it up - ACDC 81'

𝑒𝑡𝑐 ˚ I plan on making a part 2 maybe even a 3 depending on if y’all like it. Sorry, this is so long but the brain rot for Eddie Munson is alive and well dahlings, Enjoy ♡.

⫘𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡/𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘. 𝐼𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒/𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 & 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔 𝑥𝑜𝑥𝑜.⫘

New to Hawkins, Your mom decided to pack up and move you and your little brother for a fresh start. Not being the impressionable new toy at school after a couple of weeks, all the cliques picked up that you weren’t joining them, and you never really fit into any social clubs anyways. You just went to school and wanted to be alone, not fake being happy with people you didn’t like. This didn’t help in the friends’ department but at least you had Joan.

She was the first person that helped you on your first day scrambling to find your homeroom. You two have been attached at the hip ever since. Everyone else at school seems very stuck up and into the social hierarchy of high school. Joan didn’t give a shit just as much as you, maybe that’s why you both got along so easily.

Joan invited you for a sleepover this Friday night at her trailer. You were excited to get to know her more, the two of you never really hung out after school before. So you obviously take her up on her offer, packing your sleepover essentials in your school bag for Friday.

The final bell rings, stinging your ears, releasing you from Ms.O'Donnell's class. The torture of hearing her go on and on about the essay due this Monday and god forbid you hear her yell "Munson!" again at that loud metal head that sits in the far right corner of the class.

You gather up your things from your desk and look up to see Ms.O'Donnell walking furiously up to "Munson" behind you. Feeling bad for him you turn and shoot him a sincere smile. You've been on O'Donnell's bad side before. Your first week trying to juggle all your classes coming in weeks late, and she wasn't one to care for any excuses.

He looks back at you for a second but his view gets blocked by Ms.O'Donnell finally making her way to him. You shove your books into your already stuffed bag and get outta there fast before that rage is turned on you too.

At your locker, putting your books away, you hear a slam into the locker next to you.

"Augh- I hate high school."

You look over to see Joan's eyes closed frustrated at the day she had.

"don't we all,"

You nudge her to try and cheer her up with a smile.

She returns a small smile back at you

"At least we get the whole night to make up for today"

you nod agreeing, excited to finally get out of the house for once.

Joan and you hop in her car, You stop at the gas station for Slurpees and head to her place.

You had never been to the trailer park before, Once you finally arrived the smell of cigarettes and weed-filled your lungs, Intriguing you, wondering if Joan was into weed or anything so you could try something.

The stress from school and the move had you ready to try anything to take the edge off. You both finished up your Slurpees outside listening to the radio blasting from her neighbour’s porch, soaking in the start of the sunset.

Her trailer was small but just enough for her and her mom who was working a night shift tonight. The place was filled with the cutest décor, yellows, oranges and browns cascaded everywhere. She plants you in front of the TV with the task of finding something to watch while she cooks up some mac n cheese for dinner. After watching some TV and eating Joan asks if you wanted to go for a smoke with her.

"I never smoked before.."

You sound more nervous than you mean to but still hoping she will offer you to try.

"c’mon it's okay if you don't want to smoke just come anyway, I wanted to tell you about the shit that happened today at school."

You didn't even realize how long you two were mindlessly watching Tv together, The sun was already down. The trailer park was pitch dark except for everyone's small porch lights and the occasional string lights around some. The lack of streetlights made the night sky illuminate above you. She brings you over to the bench placed closer to the entrance of the trailer park, a little bit of a walk away from her trailer.

"This is my favourite spot, sometimes you can hear heavy metal playing at night, I’ve also carved 70% of the things into this table."

It seemed like just an ordinary park table but the closer you looked you can see the history carved into the wood. You both sat on top of the table, Joan places a cigarette in her mouth, you were a little disappointed it wasn't weed but what can you do. She illuminated her face with the lighter in the darkness and lit her smoke. Inhaling and exhaling with a deep sigh, Like the cigarette eased her troubles.

You sit back listening to Joan rant about her day giving her the occasional nod and "mm" so she knows you're listening and there for her.

You get distracted by bright headlights illuminating the area, a loud van charging into the park and coming to an even louder halt at the trailer in front of you. This didn't faze Joan at all, like she was used to it, she just kept going on talking.

A shadow with big fluffy hair climbs out of the van and runs inside. You wondered how normal loud noises were out here for everyone since no one else really cared or noticed, in your neighbourhood someone would’ve called the cops just for the noise alone.

You turn to look up at the stars mesmerized by how bright they were out here. Protruding out of the deep darkness of the night sky. You can’t remember the last time you looked up and saw so many stars, you’re usually in your room, never really going out at night. Even when you did the stars never looked this good.

The faint scent of weed starts to creep around you both making you snap out of your star-gazing trance. Looking over at Joan you hope she’s noticed it too. Nope, busy carving into the table with her pocket knife.

Smelling around like a wild dog you get her attention making her giggle.

"I don't got any if that's what you’re looking for, I thought you didn’t smoke anyways y/n"

Joan says to you curiously shooting you a puzzled look.

"I don't but I wanted to try maybe the next sleepover we can?"

Joan smiles at you like she never expected this side of you but nods in agreement.

Sitting up to look around and you see that fluffy-haired shadow sitting on their porch swing smoking. The fuzzy hair was illuminated by the faint porch light and the pull of the joint in their mouth.

The culprit of the smell.

An idea pops into your head. You nudge Joan and flash your eyes to the figure while smirking so she can understand what you're thinking.

She smiles back and winks at you, inhaling deeply like she’s about to dive into water,

"HEY EDDIE, YOU ARE A GENTLEMAN RIGHT ?!"

Joan shouts at the figure making their head snap in our direction immediately.

His hand shot up to his forehead looking our way like it would help him see us any better out here in the pitch dark. He gets up from his seat and jumps off his porch running over to us like a madman, making you both giggle. Stopping right in front of you both his feet kicked dirt from stopping so abruptly, he cleared his throat with a little cough

"uh - Hello ladies, you called? "

His voice was like velvet and the smirk painted on his lips caught your attention.

Analyzing his features you realize it's the "Munson" from your class. Still wearing that hellfire shirt from earlier today.

"hey, I know you-" you start

"-Ms.O'Donnell's !" he cuts you off

He scratched his cheek looking at you, now analyzing your features too.

"Yeah, uh thanks for that beautiful smile today"

He sounds a little nervous but changes that by flashing you a wink.

Your cheeks start to heat up as you shoot him another smile.

Joan clears her throat loudly to snap you two out of your trance.

"uh we wondered if you had any weed to spare, It’s a special occasion…I'm taking her virginity tonight."

Joan explains to Eddie with a smirk knowing exactly how that sounded. His eyes widen and his face dropped a little looking at both of you a couple of times until he finally spoke again. Scratching his head he says,

"i-i- uh yeah I think I have some uh hold on.."

He bows to you both dramatically “m’ladies” then he franticly runs back into his trailer like his life depended on it.

You turn your head to look at Joan and she’s raising her brow at you.

"what was that hmm?"

she’s beaming at you hoping for any juicy details on you and Eddie.

Rolling your eyes at her, knowing all she wants to do is gossip.

"I just saw him getting shit from O'Donnell today and gave him a smile, I don't even know the guy c’mon"

"hm okaaaay" smiling at you like she doesn't believe a word you say.

“well he’s the leader of that hellfire club at school, but I’m sure you know that already.” She teases at you.

“didn’t know he was the ‘leader’ but yeah they play like board games right?”

“Some say they do sacrifices and bring back the dead.” She says in a haunting voice holding her hands out like a zombie as you both giggle.

she lets out a small exhale once you both stop giggling,

“Eddies a sweetheart though, we both grew up together but we don’t hang much at school, I bought some weed off of him here and there, always a gentleman.”

You were excited to get to know more about this loud gentleman of a drug dealer.

Eddie seems to take his time so you both lean back into the table together to get comfier as you start to tell her about your day after she asked.

You both get distracted mid-conversation by the stomping of Eddies feet as he jumps off his porch again, ignoring the steps completely. Running over to us again, out of breath, he presents a mighty joint to us with a sinister smile.

Joan and you scoot over giving him a spot between the two of you on the table. He plops down between you. The three of you lay down on the table heads looking up at the night sky again.

Your senses are filled with the smell of cologne, sweet cinnamon. You thought to yourself, did he really go put on cologne just to smoke weed with us? Even though the cologne was strong it couldn’t mask the cigarette smell on him. You also notice his hair looked a little less messy as he lay down next to you. His skin looked so soft under the glow of the moon, almost making you grow a desire to touch it. You look away as you sense his head turning to look at you so you didn’t get caught staring.

Eddie breaks the silent peace,

"so, what are we uh looking at here,"

Eddie says confused looking at the same star-plastered sky as us.

"the stars."

You respond a little too snappy at him, giving him a raised brow.

Causing him to turn and look at you, the corner of his lip curling up.

"my bad sweetheart."

Holding his hands up like he was being arrested.

Making you giggle and shake your head, returning your gaze up. The way he said sweetheart made your belly fill with butterflies, stunting you. You’ve never understood the term butterflies in your tummy until now.

Eddies body springs up, folding his legs together and sitting up between us. He waves the joint in circles around your face and starts his monologue, in an old-time accent, his very dramatic hands start waving about,

"Here thee lays the sacrificial virgin of the night, as the whispering stars gaze upon us on this monumental evening, the deflowering of this lost lamb will commence this very hour, A burning of flowers to seal the deal..."

You both burst out giggling at his on-the-spot theatrics. Springing up to join him sitting. You also wanted to join in on the fun too,

"I thee taketh this token bestowed upon me, with gratitude and honour, thank you, masters."

You exclaim trying to mimic eddies voice as you grab the sacred joint held out to you in Eddie’s palms with his head bowed down.

You all laugh together and once it dies down you can feel Joan's eyes piercing you with her suspicions of you and Eddie. You don’t blame her, she’s never seen you this goofy and blushing a mess before. You choose to ignore her daggering eyes as the nerves of smoking for the first time start to set in.

Your stomach sinks, and now that the time has come every bad thing you’ve ever heard about ‘weed’ and ‘bad trips’ racks your brain. You look up to see they’ve definitely both noticed your mood change.

"It’s honestly not that scary y/n, it'll feel weird at first but a good weird trust me."

Joan tries easing your anxiety, her words making you relax a bit.

"y/n, hm she has a name.."

Eddie sounds like his curiosity was fulfilled finally, mystery solved in his mind. As he rubs his chin. Your name sounded so pretty on his tongue. You shake your head, trying to wash out your thoughts of Eddie that just kept getting more intense.

"Listen, it's just like ripping off a bandage, I can start it for you if you want. Show you how? Hm?"

Eddie offers to try and take the pressure off of you.

"No !" Joan protests at Eddie with a wave of her hand and a stern look.

"It’s her special night it’s goodluck to start it off with the virgin!"

You wave to both of them to calm down, indicating to them that you’re ready, enough fussing.

Eddie scoots back immediately so the three of you are sitting in a triangle, legs crossed, knees touching each other. A perfect weed triangle held together by budging knees. You put the joint to your lips and look at Eddie holding the lighter.

The stench of weed instantly takes over your senses as you watch Eddie examine you, making sure you're ready. He pulls in close to you, right next to your ear. You feel his breath on your cheek, tickling your skin. Your skin instantly starts burning at how close he is to you.

"you just pull, inhale, hold it as long as you can, then exhale, it’s easy don’t worry sweetheart"

He whispers in your ear sending shivers down your spine, feeling like your stomach will surely burst from the butterflies now. You both lock eyes as he pulls away, his eyes so warm and inviting, making you feel safe. You can feel how warm your body is like you have a full-body blush. The effect he had on you by just whispering caught you off guard.

"ready?" he says in a low voice, slightly raising a brow at you.

You nod at him holding the joint to your lips again, still not breaking eye contact.

He flicks the lighter on illuminating his face, you can see the spots of hazel in his eyes, the texture of his fluffy hair, and how full his lips are. Your thoughts trail off and he’s pulling the lighter closer to you. Lighting the joint, you try to remember his steps...

Pull…

inhale...

"Good, good, hold it" he coaches you.

You feel the smoke start to burn in your chest. Like a ball of fire growing bigger every second.

"okay exhale!" Joan chimes in loudly

You slowly exhale trying not to do it too fast but you start coughing for your life as the smoke clears your throat of all its moisture. You are coughing for your life. Eddie places his hand on your back rubbing it to help you out. The initial contact was missed due to your hacking. But the back rub is helping, you think, or maybe it just feels really good and is distracting you from the pain of breathing right now. Eddie and Joan are dying laughing and Joan is clapping at you. Making the most noise, your surprised no one has come out to complain yet.

"CONGRATULATIONS YOU ARE NO LONGER PURE Y/N!!" Joan shouting at you like we are the only people in the world right now. Trying to give her your best smile as you are still trying to catch your breath. Finally, you stop coughing, still feeling the hard sting in your chest.

Passing the lit joint to Eddie, he grabs it with his left hand that’s free, the other still rubbing circles into your back. You can feel his touch getting more and more intense on your body as you settle into your high, body senses being heightened, and his big hand rubbing you felt so good.

You watch him smoke like a pro, making you feel like a chump for coughing your life out. But the sight of him smoking made something in you awaken, watching his lips crush into the joint and then blow smoke out had you hypnotized. He was mesmerizing to you. He then passes it to Joan, she grabbed it with a bow of her head as a thank you to him. Making him crack a smile at her.

Joan took her hit but coughed a little, you wanted to get back at her for laughing at you and say ‘HA YOU COUGHED TOO’ but Eddie’s hand stopped rubbing you, distracting you from your thought completely. Immediately missing contact with him.

He put both his hands on the table leaning back into them as he relaxed, let out a sigh and looked up at the stars again but with his new elevated state. His rings and hair are highlighted by the soft glow of the night sky, eyes glossy, cheeks flush.

Joan nudged your knee snapping you out of staring at Eddie, "here round 2" she smiles at you passing the joint back to you. She too joins in the star gazing with Eddie as you start your next hit.

This time you exhale before your chest starts to burn and you don’t hack a lung thankfully.

"there you go, good girl" Eddie hums toward you.

Feeling startled, you didn't realize he's been watching you. You look over to Joan, She’s making a face, eyes wide like she noticed the way he said that too.

You try passing the joint to Eddie but he’s staring up into the stars again. Maybe the weed is making you a little too confident, you stretch over and place it on his lips for him. He grabs your elbow to hold your hand in place as he pulls from the joint looking at you. The intensity in his eyes makes you feel weak. His face is beautifully lit by the joint as he inhales, Eyes pouring into yours.

Finally, he releases your arm from his grasp and you guide the joint over to Joan. But notice she's got her hand on her head watching the two of you interact. You feel your cheek heat up and realize the two of you have been very touchy, well mainly Eddie. But you just changed that with the new confidence gained from the joint.

She shakes her head and smiles, grabbing the joint from you, eyeing you down like a hawk. Now you’ll try your best to resist looking at Eddie, for the sake of Joan and making her any more uncomfortable.

You start playing with your fingers instead. Maybe mumbling around your fingers will help your eyes from looking to your left again. Oddly enough it’s working, you start spinning circles around your fingers, making your own optical illusion for your high state of mind to fixate on. Mesmerized, until you get a nudge from your right. Joan handed you the deviled lettuce yet again like you needed to be any more intoxicated than you already are.

"well… how is it virgin?" Joan asks excitement painted on her face, beaming at you.

"i-its very intense"

You try to explain but your tongue feels like jello making words coming out sound weird. You feel how heavy your eyes are getting too, feeling like sandbags. You are not even sure if it’s Eddie or the weed making your body flutter with butterflies and making your skin burn from blushing. You really can't make out the difference, maybe it's both.

Eddie chuckles to himself "makes you feel like Jello hm ?"

Like he read your mind completely, making you second guess if you spoke your thoughts out loud just now. Nodding in agreement to answer him because words aren’t working for you at the moment.

"it always makes me wanna listen to music and just be. Ya know?"

Joan expresses herself to both of you, letting her inner thoughts out.

"mm m-music." you mumble out trying to join in conversation with her.

Making them both chuckle at you trying to speak again, seems that speaking is getting harder each time. You go in for your third puff making it very small, you know you won’t be able to handle any more after this.

"scared of the flower now?"

Eddie raises a brow at you grinning as he watches you.

Smiling back at him "no.."

You say sarcastically looking away as you pass the joint to him again. His smile makes you more nervous, scared he’ll notice that just looking at him is affecting you in all aspects, physically and mentally right now. And you told yourself to not make Joan uncomfortable anymore.

You noticed the joint is almost finished, you pray Eddie and Joan finish it before it comes back to you again.

Eddie exhales his puff very painfully slow, making your eyes wander over to him, big mistake. He looks so beautiful, smoke pouring out of his lips, you can’t help but admire him as he nudges Joan and passes the joint to her, you watch his hands.

The rings glisten in the light reminding you of when they were rubbing your back, making you feel so good. The memory of him touching you consumed your mind, you started to feel that burn over your body again, like your whole body was blushing. Just watching him had you like this, like you were under a spell, maybe it’s just the weed…it can’t be, look at him, he’s the culprit…

"The sacred virgin joint is finished, Congratulations little lamb," Eddie says with a clap snapping you out of your daydream. You look over and he flashes you a little wink making a smile smear across your face.

You rest your hands to your sides to hold you up on the table like Eddie and Joan are and lean back trying to relax into your high and mimic them, looking up above you.

Looking at the stars you try to find patterns and constellations, feeling consumed by the overwhelming amount of stars. Eddie’s fingertips touch your left hand as he shifts his position, so lightly, that you chose not to react to it hoping he will get closer.

The smallest touch sends tiny sparks up your arm, you can feel yourself getting goosebumps. He inches closer a little bit and you start to play with each other fingertips, it felt good. Not looking at each other you flirt with your fingers. It sends more tickles up your arm like electricity, more intense as time goes on. Still not looking at him, you look to check on Joan and you see her falling asleep in an upright position making you laugh out loud.

Your laugh startled her awake. Feeling bad for how loud you were laughing you put your hand to your mouth to muffle yourself, breaking the finger flirt with Eddie. She tried to gather any consciousness she had after being awoken.

"Guys I'm fucking exhausted" she confesses to you both with sleepy hooded eyes

"y/n, you know where my trailer is right ?"

"you don’t want me to come?" you ask her, concerned about why she’s trying to leave without you.

"no no don’t worry, weed always does this to me, enjoy the stars come back when you get sleepy too, I’ll leave the door unlocked for you."

you nod at her, shooting her a little pout as she gets up to leave.

Suddenly you realize that means you will be alone with Eddie, making you very nervous.

"well walk you there c’mon Eddie" you slap his leg lightly.

He gets pulled away from whatever trance he was in, and smirks looking at your hand and then at you. He looks up to see Joan up from the table,

"no ! Joan you leaving the party !?"

"Eddie, I’m legit a zombie right now, I need my bed."

He smiles at her and nods like he understands that feeling all too well.

He jumps off the table and stands in front of you holding his hand out for you to grab. You let him help you off the table, blushing from the small amount of contact with each other’s hands. The three of you start your journey to Joan’s trailer, you and Joan holding each other by your waists as you walk, Eddie waltzing around the two of you like a goof making you guys giggle.

“How come you two have never hung out with me at school? Am I too cool?”

Eddie teases you two.

“C’mon Eddie you know that place makes me want to hurl plus you have your little posse around you all the time.”

Joan seems a little taken aback by eddies question.

“The little posse is Hellfire club. You guys should join Hellfire, the game today was insane. You guys might be surprised how fun it is”

“Trouble finding members ?”

Joan teases Eddie back.

You watch them interact together like siblings, you can tell they’ve known each other long and talking seems so natural, the banter back and forth.

“AND WHAT ABOUT YOU DARLING?”

Eddie's voice raised stomping over to you, waking you from your inner thoughts.

“i- um I’m not sure how to even play.”

“well, I’m a wonderful teacher, anytime your free let me know.”

Eddie winks at you making you look away to smile. The thought of seeing Eddie alone makes your stomach twist, he makes you so nervous but you love the feeling.

Finally making it to the trailer Joan goes to hug Eddie goodbye, he pats her back and she whispers something to him that you can’t hear, you see lips crack a smile and he chuckles "anytime Joany" he flashes finger guns at her and she rolls her eyes. She comes to hug you, now whispering in your ear just like she did with Eddie.

"Good luck, I’ll keep the door unlocked for you… if you need it, love ya"

Sealing it off with a kiss on your already blushing cheek. She ran up her steps stopping at her door and blowing kisses at you two as you walked back to the table, shooting her kisses right back.

Once we were finally out of Joan’s line of sight and alone Eddie cleared his throat.

"so ah, how you liking O'Donnell?"

"you wanna talk about school ?..really?"

he scoffs at you, pressing his hand to his chest as you wounded him. His feet made a halting noise in the gravel. His dramatics made you feel bad.

“I’ve noticed she doesn’t care for any excuses” you nudge him playfully.

“Yeah, she’s definitely got it out for me.”

You guys make it to the table and you climb up to sit on the top, while he decides to stand in front of you.

"well, it’s been a very hard class for me, with so many distractions. She can’t really blame me" waving his hands around making crazy eyes at you.

"oh really?" you question playfully

"You actually seem to be the biggest distraction in that class, I thought your name was Munson the way I hear it every day."

His face beams at you, and a shit-eating grin smears across his face.

"You think about me every day? wow."

You roll your eyes at him. “please” you say low, almost a whisper.

His face softens as he steps closer to you, his body standing between your dangling legs. He pulls out a cigarette pack from his pocket, grabs a pen stuck into the side, placing it in his mouth as he puts the cigarette pack back in his pocket.

He locks eyes with you then down at your hand. He holds his palm for you to put your hand in, you flash him a questioning brow and place your hand in his. He raises his knee and places your hand on it, using his leg as a table, He starts to scribble some numbers on your hand.

The pen scrapping on your skin hard, the pen is almost out of ink. “sorry.” He whispers as he looks at your wincing face from the sharp scratches. He finishes and sticks the pen back in his pocket, he looks at his work and bends down, raising your hand to his lips, and looks up at you.

You’re watching his every move. He winks and presses his lips onto your knuckles. His lips felt so soft and gentle, sending waves throughout your body, you wanted those lips on yours. You wanted him all over you.

"so you won’t forget me"

You peek over to look at your hand, he wrote his number on you with a big smiley face and what seemed to be a heart, making you smile.

"I don’t think it’s possible to forget you Eddie."

You say to him in a shy low voice with a soft smile. You look up to him, Your eyes are melting into each other.

He pulls in closer to you, you feel his breath on your lips, you swear you can feel your heart beating out of your chest, you both close your eyes, soaking in this moment, breathing in each other. You feel his lips crush into yours passionately as he grabs the back of your neck, stroking your cheek with his thumb and pulls you in even more. So intense the kiss was making you weaker with every second, both of your lips begging for more. You let out a soft muffled moan as he starts to push his tongue into your mouth deepening the kiss even more twirling tongues together, feeling each other.

Every move he made was making you weaker and you were burning. You were on fire for him, your heart pacing like it ran a marathon. You needed his touch, you didn't want the kiss to end, Eddie pulls his lips away painfully slow, looking at you, searching every inch of your face as his other hand comes to hold your face too. Your face held in his palms as he just looked at you so endearing.

"beautiful."

He whispers as he watches you in awe under the moonlight.

You feel flustered at his words trying to hide your face now, all of a sudden feeling vulnerable.

He grabs your chin with his left hand and rubs his thumb so lightly on your swollen bottom lip, watching your lips like they were heaven, plants a painfully slow hard kiss on your lips and pulls away. Leaving your body begging for more, craving him in every way.

He twirls and starts to rub his arms like he’s all of a sudden cold in front of you.

"it’s uh, getting kind of chilly out here... you want to come inside ?"

You can tell he’s nervous about how you’ll react, scratching his cheek.

He looks at you and holds his hand out for yours to join, wiggling his fingers. You place your hand in his and he pulls you off the table hard and twirls you around. Makes you giggle and beam at how goofy and playful he is.

He takes your hand and places it on his cheek, his skin is as soft as you thought it would be, and he drops his head into your touch, closing his eyes like he’s in bliss. You bring your other hand up to rest on his shoulder, his hair brushing your skin so lightly. He places his hands around your waist and pulls you closer. Your face rests on his chest, his head using your head as a pillow. You both hold your embrace, swaying together for what feels like forever, in the best way it could. You feel a soft press of his lips on your forehead as you both decide it’s time to go inside. He guides you holding onto your shoulder, rubbing it to warm you up.

Eddie holds the door open, extending his arm out for you to walk in, you look around scanning the place. The smell of cigarettes and beer is almost overpowering, cans scattered over the counter, couch looking sunken in with blankets thrown all over it, looking enticingly comfy.

"Sorry for the mess, I-I wasn’t expecting any guests,"

he says nervously as he franticly tries to clean up.

"no-no it’s okay don’t worry," you reassure him, as you wander around, taking everything in.

You sit down on a stool close to where Eddie was across the kitchen, waiting for him to finish. The state of this trailer was the least of your worries, your body was still on fire just looking at him franticly cleaning random beer cans and throwing dishes in the sink.

He really had you under his spell. Thinking about his lips on yours again makes your heart leap, missing them already, even though he's only a few steps away. You've sat in the same class as him for almost a month now and you never even said hi to each other, now you kick yourself for not doing it sooner. This whole time.. he was right there.

You feel his hand pet your hair softly, as he steps in front of you.

"you okay?"

you look up at him into his worried eyes,

"We sat in the same room every day.."

He blushed at what you were trying to say to him,

"I would've come up to you but I wasn't sure if you hated me or not."

He shoots a smile and throws his hands in an 'oh well' manner

“Why would you think I hated you?”

Even the thought of you hating Eddie makes you cringe, he’s funny and sweet, maybe a little loud but he makes up for it with that beautiful smile of his.

He doesn’t respond, looking behind you, seemingly lost in thought of why he would suggest you hated him. You pout at him, giving him your best puppy dog eyes to get any response from him.

It snaps his attention back to you. Your face seemed to have an effect on him, he looked at your lip and ran his thumb across it and pulled in for what seemed to be a kiss but he bites your bottom lip that's sticking out. His teeth sank into your flushed lip stinging. You yelp not expecting it and it makes him laugh.

He pulls away, tugging his jacket off and tossing it on the couch. Getting comfy in his palace. With the jacket now off you can see some of his tattoos, piquing your interest, you wonder if there’s more under his shirt too.

"you uh like music?"

He asks as he walks towards the hallway assuming you will follow.

"um yeah doesn't everyone?" you respond as jump off your stool and follow his voice.

He walks into a room at the end of the hall, you scan the room, as Eddie is looking through tapes trying to find one for the two of you. It’s got to be his bedroom, band posters everywhere, cigarette buds, magazines, amps, and you look up to see a beautiful guitar sitting on his dresser against a mirror. Mesmerized you walk up to it. You always wanted to learn to play but it never happened, you still appreciated a beautiful guitar if you saw one regardless if you could play.

"wow she’s beautiful"

You say in awe touching the strings on his black and red guitar, making a small hum on the strings. You hear Eddies found a tape as music fills the room, still low enough to hear each other. You recognize the album, it was one of your favourites. A thought crossed your mind wondering if Eddie could read minds, the Jello feeling and now this. Felt like he knew you, but you didn’t know much about him, but you wanted to.

You feel Eddie's arms wrap around your waist pulling you back into him. His body is warm against your back, His big hands holding your waist send signals throughout your body. You feel his breath on your ear "yeah, you are" he kisses the top of your ear. Sending chills through you, closing your eyes in bliss.

Opening them to watch Eddie in the mirror on you. He pulls your hair to the side exposing your neck to him, his other hand rubbing your hip, he places soft delicate kisses up your neck. The sight of him on you drives you wild as you watch him shower you in kisses. Feeling his lips press into your skin makes your lips grow jealous, biting your lip trying to satisfy your growing hunger for him.

You whip yourself around so you’re facing him, blushing after you look up and see his shocked face in reaction to you pulling away from his neck kisses. His hands go right back to your hips as they belong there.

His brow flies up at you,

“don’t like my kisses baby?”

Him calling you baby stops all train of thought in your brain, it sounded so good to hear him call you that, you wanted to be his. He watches you as you process how amazing it would be to be his completely.

He pushes you back into the dresser, You feel the dresser digging into your back, keeping his eyes on you he lifts you up onto the dresser from your thighs so your sitting. You spread your legs so he can fit between you. He’s pressed right up to the dresser with you. You bring your hands up to rest on his neck, feeling the soaring heat off of his skin. His hands move from your hips and creep under your shirt, stopping at your waist, his warm hands resting on your skin, you can feel small licks of cold coming from his rings.

He’s watching your every move, drinking you in with his stare. You look up to him, you wanted to feel his hair between your fingers. You start to play with the beautiful fluffy hair resting in your hands. he looks at you with hunger in his eyes, his brows furrow a bit as you play with his hair more, wrapping your fingers into his hair, massaging him, he’s loving it. His eyes close in bliss as you keep playing, becoming puddy in your hands.

His head starts falling back a bit giving you full access to his neck, you can’t control your urge anymore. Watching his neck exposed made you yearn for him. You pull into him and start kissing his chin down to his neck he lets out soft exhales as you shower him in kisses just as he did to you. Your lips devour him, his breathing getting heavier making you burn to please him more. His hands dig into your soft skin as he tries to control himself.

Starting to use your tongue, making swirls on his neck with each kiss, you start playing with his hair more as you work your way up to his ear. Lightly take his earlobe between your teeth and press into his skin. He struggles to hold his moan, something in him switches instantly. He grabs your face pulling you off of him, looking at each other you can see his eyes are darker full of want and desire.

"you’re driving me insane y/n."

He breathes and he pushes a hard kiss into you, His tongue pushing into your mouth consuming you as you hold him in closer around his neck.

His hands move from your waist to your back and starts rubbing circles, just like he did outside and your head falls back in pure bliss, Stopping the intense kiss you both were in.

"I knew you liked that a little too much out there"

he says with a huge smile plastered on his face

"shhhh" you whisper at him grabbing his shirt and pulling his lips back into yours again, this time pushing your tongue into him, searching his mouth, feeling his moans vibrate through you.

You wrap your legs around him, craving any friction between your legs, you were aching to be touched. You push yourself forward so you can feel him, You feel his hard bulge pressing against your throbbing clit, begging to be touched just as much as he is. Desire burning through both of you.

He starts moving his hips into you, pressing himself onto where you need it most. The sensation is almost too much to bear as you whine and moan into his mouth as you both are still lost in each other’s mouths.

You try to move one of your arms off of his neck hoping he's too distracted by your kissing and start to head for his jeans to release his throbbing cock from its tight confinement. You feel his arm grab your wrist hard.

"not yet baby."

He coos, locking eyes with you, he moves your hand to his mouth where he kisses every knuckle and licks the tip of your thumb sending delicious signals to your clit. Making you think about his tongue on you.

You watch him with your mouth open just a little, giving him the idea to bring his hand to you, you hold his hand and return the favour kissing every knuckle, licking the tip of his thumb, but not stopping there, you open your mouth for him and he slides his thumb in and you close your mouth on it and suck.

The taste of his thumb washes over your tongue, his eyes burning into you as he watches, he goes to kiss your forehead and rest his head on your shoulder in defeat.

"fuck," he breathes against your skin.

Feeling how bad he wanted you sends you into a frenzy, you needed to please him, you needed his moans to fill your ears. You release his thumb from your mouth. Turning to his face on your shoulder, kissing his ear,

"please"

You beg a whisper in his ear as you tug at his belt.

A smirk stretches across his face as he turns to you.

"wait like the good girl you are" he whispers on your lips.

You pout again at him, this feels like torture you can feel how wet you are and he hasn’t even touched you there.

He nips at your bottom lip sticking out and starts kissing your chin working his way down your neck, sucking and pulling, definitely leaving his mark on you for tomorrow, you moan at the painful pleasure he’s giving you.

He tries to pull your shirt off of you to gain access to more, you help him out by taking it off, but cover yourself with your hands.

"you too." you protest at him with a smirk.

He sighs and obliges pulling his hellfire shirt off by grabbing the back of it and tossing it on the ground next to yours. You are mesmerized by his exposed body, so many places to kiss still, you fixate on his tattoos, moving your hands from yourself to touch him.

You softly press your hands onto his chest over his tattoo looking up at him in wonder, wanting to know about every mark on him. Moving your hands to his arms, you trace his tattoos with your fingers, slowly. Feeling the slightly raised skin on each mark. You wanted to press your lips into every inch of him. He grabs your hand softly bringing it to his mouth, planting little kisses inside your palm. You fixate on his lips as he puts your hand back down to rest beside you.

He backs up, admiring you, looking at your new exposed flesh now biting his lip in desire. He comes back after making you feel shy again, he grabs your hips pulling you closer to the edge of the dresser.

He starts exploring your chest, trailing kisses and his tongue along your burning skin. Letting out little moans like kissing you is pleasuring him, he wraps his arms around your back, snapping your bra off, you let it fall into the pile. he steps back again, soaking the vision of you in and you gush at the daggers his eyes are placing on you.

"so fucking beautiful my god."

His words travel through you adding fuel to the burning fire inside of you.

He grabs your face and kisses you hard, moving his hands down to your bottom. He lifts you off the dresser, still kissing you as he places you down on his bed, kicking off some books that were on the end. His bed was very soft, and you both sunk into it.

He looks at you after pulling away from your deep kiss, holding himself up by his elbow, his eyes intensely analyzing your face, you shoot him a warm smile. Making his face light up.

“hey, that smile is what got us into this mess.”

He says to you as he leans in to kiss your nose.

You stick your tongue at him playfully, he seems enticed by it and climbs on top of you.

His hands grab your wrists, planting a kiss on each. Then holds them above your head wrapped between his hand, and pressed into the bed.

You look at him as you can see the hunger in his eyes again, he presses a hard kiss into your lips, moving his way back to your chest, kissing your neck as you feel his free hand grab a hold of your aching breast, teasing and playing with your hardnipples between his fingertips.

His rings sent waves of chills every time they bushed against your sensitive nipples. Soon enough his warm lips were on them sucking and pulling, flicking his tongue around them making your hips buck from the pleasure, leaving his marks along your skin. You couldn’t help the moans that escaped from you even a little, you were all his right now.

He keeps moving down as he kisses you, lower, and lower, and he finally releases your wrists to give himself access to more of you. He’s at your jeans looking up at you to grant him access.

"Eddie please" you whisper at him, taking over his role and teasing your nipples yourself.

That’s all he needed, he starts undoing your jeans slipping them off of you. You watch as he soaks in every inch of you with his eyes. He goes back between your legs and starts kissing, exploring and worshiping your body all over.

Feeling him all over you is all you’ve wanted all night, his touch, his hunger for you, the pressure between your thighs is unbearable now. You can feel how soaked you are, embarrassed by it honestly but all Eddie has done is tease you.

He rests his head on your thigh as he lets his hands explore your legs, massaging your inner thighs, inching closer to where you need him, still teasing, he’s torturing you.

“Please baby” you whine, needing him so bad you don’t care how you sound.

“I know sweetheart.” he brushes over your lips making you hold your breath.

He pulls your panties to the side, he lets his fingertips explore you, up and down your slit, slowly dipping in between into the pool of wet.

"baby your so wet for me" you can tell he’s smiling wide, proud of his work. He slips your panties off of you.

He finds your clit and starts to circle between his fingers slowly making you yelp from the pleasure. Finally, he’s where you need him. His fingers speed up erratically, making your moans even louder as you feel the pressure between your thighs even heavier now.

Your eyes shoot down when you can feel his breath right on your skin and feel his big hair brushing on your thighs, he’s looking up at you watching him, he takes you into his mouth. Your eyes fall back in bliss and your back arches, he grabs your hips to keep you in place, where he wants you.

He swirls his tongue around your clit as you curse in pleasure. Overstimulated you grab a hold of his long fluffy hair in your hand, he moves his tongue down to lap up your arousal, sticking his tongue into your entrance, circling, teasing you.

He moves back up to your clit and you start to grind yourself into his mouth, so close to your release. You feel his hand move from your hip, his finger teasing circles around your entrance, slipping his finger in you. Sending shockwaves through your body. You can feel your walls throbbing around his finger as he fucks you, adding another finger, stretching you, and making your eyes roll back.

Between his beautiful tongue on your clit, his fingers fucking you deeper and deeper, his moans vibrating your skin, feeling the cold steel of his rings at your entrance. Your muscles tense up, devouring every feeling he’s giving you, your legs start to shake, overwhelmed by all your senses, you see stars and your vision is blurred.

“F-fuck Eddie” you moan as you come undone to his touch and cum all over his fingers. He moans as you release all your pleasure onto him. You close your eyes hard still throbbing from your release.

You feel Eddie’s body on top of you. He’s on your lips, pushing his tongue into you, you can taste yourself on him. Making you smile, you open your eyes and hold his face in your palm, he looks at you,

“I like the way you moan my name baby” making your face heat up realizing you came moaning his name. He kisses your flushed cheeks chuckling at you being embarrassed.

“Hold on-“ he says to you as he runs out of the room.

Only a moment passes and he’s back with a towel for you, “here baby” you use the towel as he rumbles through his drawers.

“perfect” you hear him whisper to himself.

You look over to him holding up an extra hellfire shirt and smiling so big at you. He comes over to you and helps you slip into it. He looks you up and down “absolutely perfect” he beams at you kissing your forehead.

Suddenly feeling the aftermath of his work you are exhausted. Looking up at him with sleepy eyes, you fall into his chest making him chuckle, “okay baby let’s get you back to Joan…unless you wanted to stay here?”

“mm” is the only response you can give him as he just chuckles at your exhausted self.

He lifts you off the bed from your hip, opening the blanket up and placing you back down, covering you up, he leans down planting a soft long kiss on your lips, then turns off his lamp and turns the music down for you, quiet enough to fade asleep to.

You hear him walk out into the kitchen opening the fridge.

You open your heavy eyes to look around, the moonlight poking through his window illuminating his stack of magazines on the floor beside you. You see a naked woman on the cover and blush at the thought of Eddie using it to please himself.

Reminding you that you never got to taste him… It’s all you could think of, the hunger to please him restarts in you. You look over to the open bedroom door, the light from the kitchen pouring in.. enticing you…

𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑑𝑎ℎ𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠..

#eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson fic #stranger things smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #flowhore #flowhorewrites #stranger things #eddie munson fluff

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thepaintedlady00 · 8 months

Text

Is this what I should be writing? No. Is it what my brain has become obsessed with? Yes. 😅😂 SO, my friend and I have been playing Baldur's Gate 3 and last week she just sent me a piece of fanart for Enver Gortash and a The Dark Urge Tav. She wrote me an essay about how a story about these two and their tragic pasts and sexy chemistry and eventual love affair and angst was just so perfect and blah blah blah. No big deal, right? WRONG! WRONG! Because now it's stuck in my head and I've been writing long ass blurbs for a fic that I did not have planned whilst I'm supposed to be writing like 2 other things right now! 🤣 Well, anyway, here this is because *looks at script my friend wrote out for me* "I'm the boss (writer) and I can do (write) whatever I want" 🧍‍♀️. Let me know if y'all enjoy this because boy oh boy do I have more (it's literally turning into ANOTHER 20 plus chapter series). Thanks for the brain rot you bitch (said lovingly), I hope you enjoy the tiny peek into the fic you want so badly!

The glinting steel reflected the vision of pale skin - skin I wanted nothing more than to slice open. The man made a slight, quiet noise. It wasn’t one I usually heard when about to take a life. Everyone else was always babbling, clearly terrified to die, but he seemed to be bored… annoyed. I admired the way the chilled, freshly sharpened blade kissed his neck so nicely before his hands finally stopped their intricate movements, and he slowly settled back against his chair. "We have to stop meeting like this."

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't slit your throat."

"It'd be such a waste of a pretty neck," he joked. I pulled the blade back more, nearly cutting the tender flesh he seemed so fond of. He made some noise of protest and quickly added, "As well as a waste of a powerful ally."

The laugh that bubbled out of my throat was unexpected. It'd been so long since I'd laughed. Surely he was joking. I kept the knife steady as I stepped out from behind the chair and truly examined him. He was fit enough, with strong arms and a well-toned physique with a power that surrounded him as well, but it was but a simmer... A meager fountain in some garden compared to the power I'd witnessed. He grinned beneath my gaze. "See something you like, assassin?"

"If you're so powerful, then why is it me that holds your life in my hands?" I asked, with an arched brow.

"It would be rude of me to interrupt. You are doing such a lovely job with all these vague threats."

"You'd risk your life on some self-imposed manners?"

He rolled his eyes. "You aren't going to kill me."

I grinned at his boldness. "No?" Pressing the dagger down I made sure to draw blood this time. The sight of it made my mouth go dry, anticipation humming through me. "You would make a pretty corpse."

"I've no doubts about that," he agreed with barely a flinch. "But, if you'd intended for me to die, I suspect I would have been dead weeks ago when you first paid me a visit."

His words - those cursed words he'd uttered the first time my blade touched his throat rang in my ears. "You're beautiful."

A chill, a fragment of a feeling, crawled up my spine, and the dark urge to bleed him dry went quiet. Slowly I withdrew my blade, leaning back to sit on his table, not caring if his papers smudged. "What do you want, slaver?"

The man's lips curled up into a snarl at the term, but he quickly tempered himself. "An alliance."

"And what exactly are we allying against?" I questioned with a hum. "We don't exactly run in the same circles."

"We are far more similar than you think, Bhaalspawn."

My blade twisted in between my fingers as I shoved forward and dug it into the back of the chair, just an inch shy of his face. Baring my teeth I let out a low growl. "Who told you what I am?"

The man smiled, not at all deterred by my blade nor my voice. "No one. I knew what you were the moment I saw you." He leaned forward, so close our noses nearly touched. "You'll want to keep that secret close though."

"Bold of you to threaten me,” I complimented with a slight raise of my brow.

"Oh, it's not a threat," he corrected. "Simply some advice from one worshiper to another."

"You worship Bhaal?"

"Gods no," he scoffed. "Murder doesn't exactly fit my particular skill set. Besides, these silks are far too fine a fabric to stain with all that blood. No, I prefer power... Status... Tyranny."

I rolled my eyes with a quiet scoff of my own. "A disciple of Bane then. How fitting for a cocksure man."

His head tilted slightly, eyes dragging down the length of me as I leaned back into the table. "I'm certain we'll have plenty of time to explore how cocksure I am whilst we work together."

"I haven't agreed to work with you yet."

"Yes you have," he replied, confident and unwavering. "You see the potential in such an alliance. Two dark gods are more powerful together than one alone. United we could do so much more."

With a quiet hum I regarded his words carefully. He held some semblance of truth in his statement. Bhaal was not as strong as he once was, his worship and power long declined. Uniting, even if just for a short time, with another Chosen could prove to be useful in achieving both our goals. There was something in me that stirred beneath the man's steady, unflinching gaze... Something warm and foreign. Once again his first words to me filled my mind. "You're beautiful."

Reaching forward I pulled my blade from the wood and pointed it at his neck again. "Get rid of the flyers or the next time we meet my blade will bury itself in your throat."

"Does that mean you accept?" He questioned with almost a giddy smirk.

"It means I'll consider it."

I wearily watched him rise to his feet, towering over me. "How shall I summon you again?"

My jaw clenched. "You do not summon me. If the Temple of Bhaal agrees to participate in this plot of yours I shall find you."

"And if not?"

"Then I will still find you, and I will kill you."

"Splendid," he mocked with a clever bow. "I, Enver Gortash, shall eagerly await your return."

"The flyers," I reminded, stepping around him to move back toward the window.

His boots scuffed against the floor, the boards creaking beneath his weight. "What shall I call you? Assassin? Or your moniker perhaps? What was it... The Dark Urge." The man, Gortash, made a displeased noise. "I'd much prefer your name if it's all the same to you."

I should have left - I had every intention just to leave, and yet my steps halted. The chilled breeze from the cracked window brought goosebumps to my arms, every hair rising on end from the cold or perhaps from the sudden and odd anticipation that filled me. I turned my head to the side, eyes slyly glancing at him as the soft whisper of the name... My name rolled off my tongue. "Remora."

Gortash smiled. It was different from the others... Softer... Genuine. The sight of it sent a sharp sensation through my chest before it vanished, and he teasingly bowed again. "I await your swift return, Remora."

Shaking off the weight of those unknown feelings I climbed through the window and leapt into the dark night. Loose shingles shifted beneath my light steps as I hurried across the rooftop. The wind stung my cheeks and threatened to pull my hood from my head as I slowed and looked back at the window. I could barely make out the shape of him standing there, looking out into the night as if he could still see me. A frustrated bubble of annoyance finally burst within me and made me want to groan as I quickly realized he was right.

I had already decided to join him.

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beevean · 6 months

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While I know Andrew is not perfect, a lot of people are swinging the other pendulum and acting like he's just as evil as Ashley if not more and the real abusive one of the situation or outright downplaying any nice trait he has (or any justified reason for why he acts the way he does)

Like, even if avoiding the consequences of his actions is a primary motivator, he really did feel bad about Killing her as well as Ashley's nonchalant reaction to it and the fact she used Nina's death to blackmail him, most of the venomous words for her are because said death and what she forced him into (which likely carries to how he treats her in high modern day)

Also the fact he knows what guilt w

I've been marinating in TCOAAL analyses, and the takes on both characters are fascinating.

My take is that Ashley is immoral, while Andrew is amoral. There is a difference between the two. The conflict comes from the fact that Andrew is aware of this, he's aware that it's "wrong", and tries very hard to be Ashley's moral compass to compensate. Ashley, ever since she was a kid, was made painfully aware that there was something "wrong" with her, no one except her brother loved her (and even then, who said that he wasn't pretending?), and her reaction was to embrace it.

(I'd really love to talk about their childhood, how Leyley displays behavior that she could have only learned from others, how they seem to have learned the lesson that "bad children don't deserve love" and how they cope with it)

The crux of the matter seems to be... did Andy really feel bad about Nina, or was his primary concern going to jail and being separated from Leyley? Is the trauma that stemmed from the incident from the feeling of guilt and remorse, or because that was the point where he became his sister's plaything and could not escape from her anymore? This seems, from what I've seen, what split the fans.

Rewatching the scene, Andy's first coherent dialogue is all about how the situation looks. "Why would have she clawed the lid if she was there willingly?" "She'll start to rot" "They're gonna know!". This once again hints at how Andy's first concern is "can this be traced back to us?". But to be fair, Leyley was the one who first said "you took off the stick, so it looks like she went there willingly", so he's responding to her.

But then he says "they'll throw me in prison for the rest of my life!" Which is very. Mh :)

Interpretation 1: Andy is being as self-centered as kids are prone to be. Nothing more to look into.

Interpretation 2: Andy only cares about himself and the consequences he's going to suffer. His sister's fate is up in the air. Lowkey implies that Andy didn't care much about her before this mess happened.

Interpretation 3: he genuinely thinks he's the main culprit of this incident. I want to add that this line happens before Leyley starts to hammer into his head that now he's bad and no one will love him anymore :) this would imply that Andy felt actual guilt.

There is probably not a concrete answer as of now. I hope episode 3 has more flashbacks because man they are so fascinating.

Anyway, to get back to the point. Andrew is not "evil". Andrew is a profoundly damaged person who was forced to become the everything of his even more damaged sister. Ashley is the "criminal mind", as it were... but to me, it looks like Andrew is on the same wavelength - remember, Ashley mused to herself that the dead neighbour was "a lot of meat", but Andrew, after the initial shock, immediately started to consider the implicit proposal of eating him. While Ashley wears her heart on her sleeve, is painfully honest, and couldn't care less about what anyone (except her bro) thinks of her anymore, Andrew is profoundly in denial about his own "abnormal" thoughts, and the difference between Decay and Burial is how he decides to accept himself.

Does that make him a better person? Well, he seems to be able to fit in more, at least. He's charming and can seemingly attract girls very easily, much to Ashley's chagrin. Maybe, without Ashley, he'd be able to live a normal life without crimes and all. But again, to me it looks like he lacks a moral compass in general, even though he has a strong sense of guilt and responsibility (which to me stems from being Leyley's sole caretaker since a tender age).

As to him being an abuser... well, he does threaten to slap and backhand Ashley a few times. She even calls him "wifebeater" at one point. Not enough to call him an abuser, but the threat of him becoming physical is always there. He's more than capable of subduing Ashley, when he wants to. Ashley's abuse is much more overt and constant, with her manipulation and guilttrips (and she got physical at least once too), but Andrew calmly choking Ashley and making her make a case for her life... has some implications.

I don't think I'm making sense lol. TCOAAL is a fascinating game that hides all sorts of moral questions underneath its over-the-top tone, and I love it.

#the coffin of andy and leyley #yeah i went on a tangent sorry #there is *so* much to dissect in this tiny game #i'm so glad i found it

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florisbaratheons · 1 year

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Anyone else annoyed with the foreshadowing stuff for team black using the team green stuff. I mean im annoyed...(I feel like I'm in the minority but i want to tell still...you can ignore this if it is dumb)

1. Why are they making a big deal out of creepy!viserys refusing milk of poppy and sticking it out for his "only child" when in the books he is just obese and goes out that way. I'm annoyed coz this is aegons main plot point and was the few things i liked about him (his bond with sunfyre was another) : that he wants to be there for his family and milk of poppy numbed his senses so much that he lost so many and doesn't want to lose the remaining people he has by being unconscious eventhough he is in severe pain.

2. Vhagar roared and was super pissed when aemond lost his eye: they just ignored that and when rhaenyra gave birth to visenya they put a scene for her (which to me did not look aesthetically in place/ bad cgi maybe?), when it is known that syrax-rhaenyra bond is not that special...syrax even killed her son (i think the show will ignore and change this 🙄)

3. Laenas death scene: why the hell did they put that dumb "i want a dragonriders death by burning alive"??? No one says so in the books. It was the worst thing especially since she is a black woman in the show and they kill her violently and in the books where she is a white woman she has such a beautiful scene with her husband. Why can't they let her have a peaceful scene like that? Of course i feel it is to show rhaenyra in the end when she gets eaten/burnt (which i think they'll change to burn only) it will be some badass great awe inspiring scene. I dont like that they take away daemon/laenas love and treat laena horribly without thinking about the racial connotations. I can't believe ppl liked the change. (I know she's not green but still I want to talk about it)

Why can't the showrunners read and stick to the books and not take away the little goodstuff that the greens have and give to the blacks? Sorry for the rant.

Omg, anon, if you are still around, I am sooooo sorry. I started to answer this the day you sent it, stuck it in my drafts, and completely forgot about it.

It definitely does seem that way, that they transferred some of Aegon's book plot to Viserys. I definitely think they are going to dumb down Aegon's injuries and have it not be as bad as it is in the book. Especially since Viserys rotting away was not in the book. And it's fascinating to me with how shitty of a father they made Viserys when in the book he actually does give a flying fig about his other children, Helaena is particularly close to him and brings the babies to visit him all the time, while in the show they transferred that over to where she brings the babies to Alicent instead.

I will forever be ticked off they cut Vhagar having a fit when Aemond had his eye cut out. And it's really interesting to me how the show laid it on thick that Rhaenyra and Daemon have perfect bonds with their dragons and Syrax feels Rhaenyra's pain, but we didn't see Sunfyre at all and Aegon's bond with him was supposed to be incredible, the same with Dreamfyre and Helaena, and the time we see adult Aemond with Vhagar, he loses control over her.

Laena's death was terrible. That was not empowering, and anyone who thinks so is weird. Her death in the book was...idk, for lack of a better word, soft. Laena's life in the book was much happier and much more fullfilled. She was able to travel around with her family, visit Driftmark, have two beautiful babies, had her bestie Rhaenyra coming to see them all the time. Her death was heartbreaking because she wasn't able to get to Vhagar for one last ride. But it wasn't that garbage that the show produced.

I totally understand the frustration! It definitely makes me nervous about season 2, since we are heading into the first huge battles of the war, and new characters being introduced. My witch queen Alys is on the way and I am soooo concerned they are gonna make her a secret black or something. I have all my fingers and toes crossed that they are going to stick closer to the book this go-around since Ryan Condal seems to be a huge book fan. And GRRM is supposedly (just a rumor I heard) going to be in the writers' room as well. But honestly, my biggest worry is time. They still have shitloads of material to go thru and the showrunners seem determined to wrap this up in four seasons and season 2 is ALREADY 2 hours shorter. That is a immense concern of mine.

#answered #anonymous #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #laena velaryon #alicent hightower #team green

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itsbopp · 2 years

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May I request a vi and seperated clem headcannons with an s/o who takes care of their very young sibling? Like their sibling is 2 or 3 and they take care of them and how they react to it and how they interact with them

How Would: Clementine & Violet Interact With an S/O That Takes Care of Their Sibling

A/N: This was very fluffy. Thanks for the request!

SUMMARY: How would Clementine and Violet be with an S/O that takes care of their two-year-old sibling?

WARNINGS: Swearing, tooth-rotting fluff.

WORD COUNT: 1384

CLEMENTINE

Clementine isn’t really fazed at the fact that you have a younger sibling and take care of them, like how a parent would their child. She had taken over the same role when it came to AJ, so being her significant other and bringing a kid into her little family dynamic isn’t off-putting to her at all whatsoever. She wholeheartedly welcomed it, actually. You were someone who was already knowledgeable when it came to protecting and caring for a baby, even if you were still actively learning new things in the process. She makes sure she’s there to help you, considering she’s been through that part of parenting. That also means she knows how rough it can be, too. And the last thing she wants is for you to get stressed out.

Sure, you’ve been on the road for a long time, so you’d probably be used to taking care of your little sibling without the aid of another, but that was because you had no choice. Now you do, and so she wants to be there for you every step of the way. I mean, they’re still so young, right? They might have a lot of fits, and they might be restless some nights, too. Among other things. She wants to take some of that weight off of your shoulders, because she cares about you, and she wants you to be able to rely on her. You know… since she is your girlfriend and all.

I can imagine that Clementine would find herself unconsciously cooing at your younger sibling when they’re in her arms. You’re probably busy doing something around Ericson, like bettering its defenses or replacing something that might have rotted away. But then you eventually come back, and you’ll more often than not see your girlfriend sitting on a recliner in the music room, with your baby sister/brother sleeping soundly, while being cradled against the brunette’s chest. Their head lulled against her shoulder, and their lips faintly parted as small breaths escape them, just completely relaxed and comfortable with her? God, that’s so fuckin’ cute.

She just thinks your little sibling is so precious. She thinks you’re precious, too. Especially when she catches you spending time with your younger sibling. When the leaves start to fall the moment Autumn hits, she always enjoys watching you try and teach them the concept of leaf piles. They’re still so young, so they probably don’t completely understand just what the hell you’re talking about, but still, they always seem to look at you with a gleeful smile, or they giggle at you when one of the older members of Ericson comes by and decides to adorn the top of your head with a singular fall-colored leaf.

AJ is a good big bro to your sibling, too. He’s just so sweet around them, and he makes sure to protect them whenever you or Clementine have to step away for only a moment. He’s like their personal bodyguard. And you find that absolutely adorable. And relieving, too. Because there was once a time where you thought your girlfriends’ kid wouldn’t like your own, or he’d see them as a threat of some sort. But no, that wasn’t the case at all. He was actually ecstatic towards the idea of taking care of someone who was younger than him. According to him, it made him feel needed and important.

There’s definitely family cuddles by the end of stressful days. You’ll have your baby sibling resting on your chest, their little chubby fingers curled up to form a loose fist, and their body just sprawled out across your torso. And AJ’ll have his head resting on Clementine’s shoulder, as she keeps an arm secured around him and uses your shoulder as her own personal pillow (because you stole the only one). Both of you probably end up just laying on your backs like typical parents, while the two kids you and the brunette take care of cuddle up on or against the both of you.

The dynamic is just so wholesomely domestic.

VIOLET

Violet’s more on the hesitant side when it comes to your baby sibling. She doesn’t hate them or anything, she just doesn’t necessarily trust her abilities when it comes to being a caretaker for a literal child. She loves you dearly, of course, but she can’t lie and say that the idea of being a second parent to your sister/brother is an extremely scary thing. There’s a lot more reassurance and praise that ends up coming from you, instead of the other way around. And granted, that certainly helps, but she still has those moments where she doesn’t think she’d be a good guardian for your kid.

So, you teach her the things you know about taking care of a two-year-old. They’re fussy, they’re sometimes loud, they like to cry a lot, especially when they’re feeling uncomfortable, etcetera. Though, that doesn’t really help much, because then she starts overthinking, and so in turn you end up having to comfort her and apologize for making the concept of parenting seem like such a daunting thing. In actuality, it’s enjoyable, and sure, it can sometimes be very stressful, but it’s so worth it in the end. That’s what every adult you came across had told you. At first, you yourself didn’t believe them, but now, you understood. And eventually, so does your girlfriend.

Once the initial worry of messing up is out of Violet’s mind, she ends up being a natural. She’s so careful with your little buddy. You often see her pacing around your shared dorm room with your younger sibling cradled in her arms, getting lightly bounced and just staring up at the blonde with their expression painted in complete awe. The first time you saw that scene, you had to stop yourself from letting out a verbal coo, because it was just so freakin’ sweet. The woman who always showed herself to be so rough around the edges, was now a complete softy for a little kid that happened to be related to you.

How adorable.

Somehow, someway, Violet’s also got the magic touch. Whenever your younger sibling is having one of those nonstop crying days, it’s insanely difficult to get them to settle down yourself. Though the moment you hand them over to her, they quickly quiet down and focus on her face, as she sings to them softly. You always find yourself watching on with wide eyes, because how in the world is that possible? You’ve asked her so many times to teach you how she does it, but she always just shrugs and says, “guess I’m the favorite out of me and you,” with a huge, smug smirk on her face.

Violet is super duper protective over your kid, too. She doesn’t want anything to happen to them, so she watches them like a hawk whenever she chaperones them outside. If Willy, AJ, or Tenn are roughhousing and get too close to knocking your little buddy over when they’re playing with chalk, she’s going to give those boys hell. The other members of Ericson will even do the same, too, because your two-year-old sibling is a lot more fragile than those pre-teens horsing around. Sure, she doesn’t curse at them or scream, but by the time she’s done talking to the group, they make a note to never put your kiddo in danger again.

Loves reading to your younger sibling as well. You’ll often find her in the library on rainy days, reading in their ear to try and distract them from the booming thunder and crashing lightning. It’s a very sweet sight to see. Specifically after a long day that was cut short solely because of the weather. She’ll be sitting on one of those window benches with her legs stretched out, and your little sister/brother sitting between them with an open book in front of their face. Chubby little fingers will point at the ink lining each page as incoherent words, or made up ones come out of their mouth. But your girlfriend doesn’t mind it. She finds it amusing, as she giggles to herself and continues reading aloud.

And you always watch on for a little while longer, before eventually joining your makeshift family.

Apologies for the delay! Was having technical difficulties with my keyboard, so I had to get some new switches to remedy that. But I'm back and (hopefully) gonna be uploading some more.

#twdg clementine #clementine x reader #violet x reader #twdg violet #twdg #twdg x reader

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reikane-enthusiast · 5 months

Text

erm, a compiled list of all the notes I have on paper and all the notes in my brain for an upcoming..project.

(( TECHNICALLY THIS ENTIRE POST CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE DRA DEATHS..BUT. I don’t specify anything ))

gameplay notes..but I can’t code :

from hours 8 AM to 11 PM no anomalies will or can occur. ( unless glitched )

12:00 PM exact is lunchtime and is the only time when other students can appear in the library. Lunchtime can also have a triggered cut scene of either of the two ( image under writing but not here for sillies ) sitting with *.

Once the distraction meter ( during daytime only ) gets to middle point * will have the ability to ‘shoo’ or just get the distraction away. ( this will trigger the dialogue of “ get out, I’m studying. “ )

a distraction is a student outside of the library either trying to form a conversation with * , talking at her, or being ‘loud’. Certain students will not do normal actions, but have special dialogue instead.

if the distraction meter fills all the way up, * will get up and yell at the distraction / student. This will cause a game over.

during 12 AM to 8 AM anomalies will occur.

what are anomalies? :

Short : corpses

Long : Manifestations of *’s PTSD, possibly ghosts?..but that’s unlikely. They’re also kind of like hallucinations however *SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER*

anomalies :

( no data found for #1. )

#2, (( she really only hangs from the ceiling and is..almost non lethal. She cries out for help a lot, for someone to save her, for her brother…I’ll have to tell him sometime, not now though. Maybe it’s her ghostly wails or whatever that kills me..

#3,(( I..don’t remember what happened to her but I don’t really want to, she’s only ever in the hallways..running. I can hear her. Is it the sound? Maybe.. Maybe it’s the ringing in my ears.

#4 (( you were a bitch. However..I..don’t think you deserved that. She sits next to me a lot. I can smell the blood and the metal. She wouldn’t be dangerous if she didn’t kill with her touch, however, unfortunately she does.

#5 (( He’s on the walls, literally. and of course the wood is rotting. His blood always finds its way to me somehow, it works like acid once it hits me.

#6 (( This one is barely threatening, I think he’s just upset. He doesn’t try to hurt me , I know that, but whenever he gets close to me it hurts. It’s like I’m being repeatedly stabbed in the neck.

#7 (( I can hear her screams, constantly. I can hear the electric shocks. She reaches out her hand and then it’s just.. pain. The shocks..she’s sharing them. like the other one..she’s not trying to hurt me actively. none of them are, really.

#8 (( Idiot.. that doesn’t feel right to say though. You were stupid, but in that trial..you were just so— … She doesn’t seem sad unlike the others, she sits next to me too..trying to make me laugh. But when I look at her..when I finally see her face again..it’s over.

#9 (( You were also stupid. I knew what you were hiding, but outing you wouldn’t make me feel better. You were..kind of gross, but trying to fit in wasn’t easy..was it? I’m sorry you went out that way. Sometimes him and * are together, I can’t look at them either..despite how happy it appears they are together. Even if it was just a facade he needed to keep up during that time, I think they’re better off because they’re actual friends now.

#10 (( The blood from her mouth and her eyes gets on me even though shes far away, it seeps into my skin, her words seep into my brain..my own blood..everything. I’m sorry *. Sometimes she stands over me. Watching my every move..then the blood really hurts.

#11 (( I didn’t know you then, I didn’t remember you then, but now I do. You were a good brother from what I heard. I remember how * talked about you, how she was always wondering about your inventions.. I know you pushed her away when you guys were kids too. I can hear you making fun of her somehow, teasing her, bullying her around.. and it burns my ears sometimes. I don’t know how I hear it..but..it’s something to hold on to. He never shows up visually, but I feel his presence. I’ve never..seen you.

#0 (( She’s the closest to me always, she only shows up in the end. She grabs me by the face and forces me to look at her, shes crying..she’s grinning too though. ..But she doesn’t look injured, dead, none of that. I don’t think we ever confirmed she was dead, we just assumed she had drowned or bled out because that made the most sense. But now that I think of it, maybe you aren’t.

#0.1 (( *’s not really an anomaly..since..he can’t hurt me and he’s not dead. He’s more like protection. He keeps the actual anomalies away , I don’t really know how.. I guess **** made it up so that I could finally study.

extras! ,, based on the unused executions. :

#12 (( I remember watching you die. I thought it was kind of funny how you went out, getting arrested and all. Then you blew up.. that was..less funny. He smells like sulfur and ash..sometimes cement, sometimes he smells like burnt plastic. when he touches me it burns my flesh, I guess he wants me to feel the pain too.

#13 (( He’s connected by veins , almost like a fleshy spider. His blood unlike *’s isn’t acidic, but is definitely venomous. I hate looking at him, but it’s the only way to keep him away. I’ve only ever had one question.. Why? , Why’d you do it *? You were an idiot..but I didn’t think you were that afraid..and that fucking stupid. Then again, we we’re kids..so..I can’t entirely blame you for letting your fear take over.

#sora.txt ( 🫧#possible DRA spoilers #spoilers #I have a ‘mutual’ ( person I’ve talked to ) who’s currently on chpt 3 I don’t wanna spoil it for them!!

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endivinity · 2 years

Text

ERROR:5329//STATUS: DATABANK CORRUPTED.

RESUMING LAST LOGGED STATE. ERROR-###7//STATUS: UNAUTHORIZED USER DETECTED. COMMAND NODE OVERRIDDEN. TRANSMISSION DATE: NONVIABLE LOG://5208B-007: QUERY 1 Alkahest. My name is Alkahest.

I thought, perhaps, I'd find something here. This frozen wasteland, calling out endlessly, willing the abyss into something more than a dream. Salvation. I misinterpreted. Not many ghosts come here looking for anything, these days. What I sought was not there, not in the empty ice-rotted husks of long dead piecemeal alloy-plate bodies. Some of them probably never had life in them to begin with.

Instead I found knowledge, hidden in the ice. Exos. The alkahest. It gave them their rebirth.

Am I not the same, then? Is that not what ghosts do?

LOG://5251B-008: QUERY 2

It turns out what I was looking for wasn't planetside. At least, not at first. An orbital satellite. The Morning Star. Everyone saw the explosion, of course; several million tons of golden-age plasteel and titanium igniting, breaking apart, painting the atmosphere with a haze that blurred the edge of Jupiter. There should have been nothing there. Should have – but there should have been nothing on Europa, and yet. I raised him, for the first time, buried under girders and shattered blackened glass, tubes that had once held fluid. He was an unmade, ugly thing, put together by the Fallen, just to see if it would work. It didn't, for them. But I was the alkahest. I could give him rebirth. I could give him salvation.

LOG://5303B-009: QUERY 3

It's rare, to find a guardian nowadays. There aren't many ghosts left. Rumors persist of some ghosts finding something darker, out there beyond reality, something that twists and grows, and whole groups of them go missing at a time. Maybe it's a mercy for them. Baizhu'ul can't even walk. The first thing he did was grab me. Punched right through space-alloy debris and shattered most of my shell. He's got claws, the cabal-forged blacksteel they fuse onto their hounds' paws.

It's been two weeks since the Morning Star's planetfall. All he's said is a dialectic blend of Eliksni and Cabal, fashioned into a name he holds like a weapon in his teeth. He crawls, hunched, awkward and ungainly, like his legs aren't his own. His first death was sliding off glacial ice several hundred metres, unable to step across a gap, and all his exploration is done with his teeth. Everyone would see him as an abomination, savage and unlearned. A beast. He wants to try, though. I can tell.

LOG://5315B-010: QUERY 4

It's interesting, being responsible for a guardian who can't hold a gun. Always, it comes back to the claws. Every guardian uses and maintains firearms, I tell him over and over. I don't understand why he keeps getting angry; seems he's broken more guns than he's hit targets with them. The arc spears, scavenged ad infinitum, he can use. Anything that can fit to the curve of his claws. He gutted a servitor with one stab, smooth and flowing. The glacial ice in its ripples and curves and unyielding surface – that's what I thought, when I saw him do that.

But then he turned to stare at me. 'This could be you,' I felt in his empty glare, those horrible sockets. I have no body to shudder with, still shattered and churning in the husk of a shell that stopped sparking last month. I would, if I could.

Can the traveler make mistakes?

LOG://5398B-011: QUERY 5

A breakthrough today, a month after rising. He managed to ask 'why?' in his guttural, metal-churning voice. I hear so little of it I can't decide if I hate it, or like how unique it is. How unique he is, despite everything. Even through our struggles, I'm still proud to have given him a rebirth. What does it matter that he can't stand upright still, or utilise fine motor skills, or communicate? I'm proud that he's here, proud that I found that spark in him, and that he's my guardian.

I told him as much, and he tried to crush me in his teeth. I don't understand why.

LOG://5436B-012: QUERY 6

He can't use the Light. Baizhu'ul saw his first guardians today. Saw the way solar crescents trailing sparks lit up the snow, scorchmarks and blackened bodies; void etchings leaving deep currents of pulsing ultraviolet that still glowed eerily under new snowfall.

He tried, too. I told him he was a guardian, that he can do all of that, if he reached for that spark I saw in him. He pulled out the darkness instead. Ice that crawled like a living thing down his arms and claws, and as it did, the brighter the glow in his throat got, until he was breathing smoke and sparks, and wind howled around him. I think he lost control. What was left of my shell is gone now. It was beautiful. It was... terrifying. I was wrong. I was wrong. I was wrong. I was wrong I--

LOG://5487B-013: QUERY 7

He wasn't anything, before he was something. A dead body, with no defining marks, no memory. A thing, a shape, a broken doll used as a plaything by the Fallen. I wonder, if he could remember, would there even be anything there? Or would it be an endless expanse, like the moon's cracked and bleak wasteland stretching out into that dull grey sky? I wonder, if he still feels like nothing? ...

I may have been approaching this all wrong. We'll start over. He and I.

LOG://5599B-017: QUERY 8

Baizhu'ul has become something of an urban legend.

It's been hard-going. He's learning Earth-words, but he can understand Eliksni a lot better. Must've been something they programmed into his body as a trial on the Morning Star, before it fell. I thought I was proud of him before, but I think I was deluding myself. Misplaced pride in my own actions. I didn't take responsibility. None of that compared to when he took his first, real steps, there in the ice-buried lab filled with vex remains. I'd always wondered how transplants and replacement limbs and augments worked with the Light; in theory, of course it was possible, but what was to stop the old limb from being regenerated? But seeing him stand, shaky and so strong-willed, on chroma-bronze talons planted steadily on the floor, it was him. It was all him, and I couldn't imagine him being anything else.

My guardian.

He's a hunter. Funny, in a world where none of that matters; the Vanguard hasn't had a hunter representative for years now. Nobody to teach him how things work. He doesn't go near anyone else. Probably for the best, the things I've heard over network channels, something about a red Minotaur, or a were-beast. Nobody believes the reports. It's best that I... encourage them to stay that way.

LOG://5613B-018: QUERY 9

He likes the Drifter. I don't. I think the man is rude and selfish. Baizhu'ul likes him for those same reasons.

There's only so much I know about survival. My new shell is a labor of... not love, but perhaps forgiveness. Amends. It's made of pieces and scraps, bitter twisted metal arranged into something few could call pretty, but he put care into it, and it functions admirably where it matters. I'm glad he's come this far. But he can't keep hidden forever. When they find him – and they will – I want him to know how to handle it.

The Drifter was, therefore, the most logical step. He's survived since the very beginning, amongst the First Lights. I thought he'd be able to help my guardian. I thought he'd understand. He refused. I was angry, righteously so, but Baizhu'ul saw something in that refusal. It feels like all my righteous anger of the past has always been misplaced, now. In the past I might've retaliated, but...

Interesting how my justification is just temper, when my guardian sees a side I would never have thought of.

He'll be found out. But I think, in the end, we'll be okay.

LOG://5669**-019//020: QUERY [CORRUPTED]

The line between light and dark is so very thin.

I've heard this phrase, passed about frequently on Europa. It's supposed to be something bigger than what we are. The Traveler. The Darkness. Tools, we thought, but perhaps we are playthings for forces we cannot hope to comprehend. I am of the Traveler, but to put blind faith in it is just as foolish as giving in to the whispers of the dark. I'm sure someone out there understands it all better than I. It doesn't matter, in the end, not really. My guardian was raised by the light, but born of the dark. He walks that razor's edge, everything and nothing, heading into a future clouded over and hazy, drifting snow obscuring the view of what he might find; ice and smoke burning on his breath. But his steps are sure and strong. He does not falter. And neither will I.

Whichever side of that line we fall on, we will face it together.

//:CONNECTION CLOSED//.

________________________________________________

based on the first ten questions @newbabyfly‘s prompt list! Alkahest is hopped up ten ways to sunday on god complex, and cannot figure out that baizhu’ul is initially Risen with the same cognitive level as an infant. but they get better

#baizhu'ul stabbing a servitor: did i do good??? alkahest: oh god oh no this is a THREAT #baizhu'ul-1 #fanfic #lorebook style #destiny 2 #destiny hunter #destiny oc

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darkchocolatedimples · 1 year

Text

endings are bittersweet (for you and me)

ngl its 11:00pm on saturday but i did want to make something for keefitz week considering the brain rot sorting through taylor swift's albums threw me into, but i was super busy so i just finished right now. i think this loosely follows the prompts for days 2 and 3. thank you @when-wax-wings-melt and @skylilac for hosting this!! its such a fun idea!

heavily taylor swift inspired fic under the cut!! (songs in the tags)

Hindsight is the clearest rearview mirror, and it’s in hindsight that Keefe should’ve known there was a flaw in his plans for the day. Afterall, Fitz being open to hearing him out wasn’t entirely in his cards.

Maybe when they were younger, before he’d ran way (twice), it would’ve been. But now, Fitz seems to have less to say and more scores to settle. Keefe guesses that's fair. He's not beyond owning up to what he did.

Yet he doesn't entirely expect Fitz to simply nod hello and cut to the chase of whatever he wanted to say. Although, Keefe had probably relinquished the luxury of speaking first when he tore Fitz’s heart in two and walked away.

At least, he assumes that’s what he did. And it was, if Fitz had actually cared. But maybe Keefe miscalculated that as well.

“You know, I was thinking…” Well that was wonderful, Keefe had been thinking too, over and over again, over the words they’d said and if they’d meant anything at all and if it was fair to ask for it all again- “And I want my bramble jersey back.”

Keefe blinks. “What?”

“You took it like, years ago? Remember the one?” Fitz prompts, accent crisp and unforgiving.

The bramble jersey. The one he forgot he still owned- no, the one he’d forgotten he’d stolen from Fitz’s closet ages ago, before they drifted apart, before everything got complicated, before Sophie even. Though some of those things were related.

“Do you seriously want it back?” he asks underneath his breath, lowering his head towards the ground so Fitz wouldn’t see the water beginning to gather in the corner of his eyes, as if he didn’t already know it was one of his nervous tells. Why was it so tough for him to imagine? Whatever this was between them fell apart ages ago. So why did returning the jersey feeling like sealing their tragic fate?

They’d always known they were bound to burn in the end.

“If you still have it,” Fitz confirms, digging his heel into the ground. Keefe can't tell what his face looks like, but if he had to guess, he’d imagine a perfect ‘gosh, I’m sorry’ grimace that doesn't look half as mean as it should on someone. Fitz is better than everyone else, anyways.

Keefe used to be able to contest to that. Keefe used to know the taller like the back of his hand; understand him better than he understood himself. Keefe knew Fitz, and even if he doesn't anymore, he knows what this must be to him. A last little loose end to wrap up so they can leave this decaying chapter of their lives in the past and move on. Be mature and embrace new beginnings. Ones that might last. But Keefe just feels like a weed being plucked.

He probably is a weed, infecting the perfect garden of Fitz’s life since the moment he’d taken his hand that day when they were kids. So if it's better to leave, if it's better to move on, why is it so hard? Why can't he let them die?

"I'll try to find it," Keefe mumbles beneath his breath.

Fitz shrugs, "Thanks," and then it's over and he's light leaping away like he didn't tear Keefe's plans to rekindle their relationship down the middle and leave him in sprinkles from the sky, slowly gaining weight. Only fitting, considering Keefe left first, and the weather was worse.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Raindrops the size of bullets pierced Fitz's skin, drenching his hair and tunic and blurring his vision as he tried to find the right lock to click open the way Keefe had described to him years ago. A useless piece of information, considering he'd never intentionally brought Fitz to his home, but the request of "Tell me something I don't know about you," had arisen under lazy pink skies and that was the only thing the blonde could think of. They'd already known everything there was to know about the other at age twelve.

The door creaked and Fitz pushed it out of the way, fumbling into the foyer as his clothes dripped water onto the mat. He only rubbed his boots against it for moment before leading himself up to Keefe's bedroom.

If Lord Cassius was home at the moment, he didn't run into Fitz as he made his way through the halls. He wouldn't have much to say if he did, although his reason for the impromptu visit was innocent enough. Cassius probably wouldn't believe it.

Would anyone?

Maybe that's why Fitz was here: because he had something to prove. He needed to convince everyone he didn't consider his relationship with Keefe a hopeless cause.

He needed to convince Keefe himself.

So really, shuffling around in his closet for his favorite sweater wouldn't hurt. It would show him he cared, he remembered, maybe even help him remember-

A cluttering noise caught Fitz off guard before he could start ruffling through the clothes in the chest before him, and the man flitting quickly down the stairs shocked him cold.

Days later, Fitz would be stuck wondering why he didn't give up sooner; why he hadn't thrown Keefe away like a broken record when everyone had expected him to. At least then he wouldn't have been present for this. His heart would've been spared.

"Keefe?" he asked tentatively, making the blonde boy flinch as he raised his head, spotting him. "What are you doing here?"

Keefe shrugged, holding up the elixirs he was carrying, but he didn't speak. Fitz hadn't entirely expected him to.

"Back to pulling pranks already?" The empty smile Keefe gave him sent chills through his body. It almost felt...mournful. "I thought you're supposed to be at Elwin's."

At that, Keefe couldn't hide his grimace, and Fitz couldn't help but sound accusatory when he noticed. "What's the bag for?"

His hunch must have been right if it made Keefe curve into himself in shame. "No, you can't seriously be- Again?"

"Keefe, don't," he pleaded, abandoning the open chest to make his way towards his friend. "They said they'd help you, Alina and Oralie and whoever else."

"It's not enough," Keefe croaked out, facing the floor, and Fitz sighed.

"How would you know that? Have you even tried?" He shook his head, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Keefe, please don't leave on all of us again."

The noise that left the younger’s throat sounded equal parts distraught and irritated, like he couldn’t deal with any of this much longer. That was probably why he was leaving anyways; maybe everyone’s nagging to just try and just believe wasn’t working, and maybe Fitz was only making things worse. So he tried a different approach. “Please don’t do this to us.”

Us was a large term in broad daylight; but like this, in the rain, alone, Keefe had to have known who Fitz was referring to. “Us” was Fitz and Keefe, like it should’ve always been. But things got too complicated for “us” to be just them anymore.

And it was probably those same things that made Keefe push back the hoarseness in his throat from lack of use just to say, “I’m sorry.”

But Fitz couldn’t give up. Giving up was giving in to everyone else’s idea that they were falling apart, and Fitz would be damned to call himself a Vacker if he gave up. “Please stay Keefe. For me.”

It was a stretch, but the words hung between them for a moment, vulnerable, open, and targeted, and Fitz almost wished he could snatch them back and fashion them into a more formal request, something that better fit the current state of their relationship.

And then Keefe shook his head.

“Oh…oh.” Fitz stumbled back, tripping into the bed. “Carry on, then.”

Keefe didn’t waste a second before exiting the room.

Fitz only wondered if he’d felt his heart splintering as he’d rushed past.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The question itself was unfair. How could Fitz have expected anything else when there were bigger things at play than just the both of them? Keefe had a reason for leaving, and he doesn't entirely regret it.

But that wasn’t what hurt him. Fitz wasn’t stupid, he knew it wouldn’t work. Alas, he still put himself out there, waiting for some sort of signal or sign that Keefe cared. And he didn’t give it to him.

He walked out. Without a second thought. And he’s regretted it everyday since, because if he had to go back and pinpoint a moment when their lives stopped being intertwined and became two lonely strands of bitterness, he’d say it was right then, when he’d shaken his head and said nothing. That was his mistake. This is his fault.

He hadn’t said anything, and now Fitz is done waiting. He wants his jersey back. He wants this to be over.

So Keefe digs through his room and finds it buried under tunics he’d never liked and capes he wanted to tear to shreds for years. A piece of fabric that held more memories than he’d like to admit. Sifting through the emotions tied to a simple jersey shouldn’t feel like a landslide, but maybe Keefe’s empathy is still oversensitive. Or maybe Fitz just means much more to him than he should.

Keefe doesn't want to think about it anymore. He doesn't want to think at all, about how everything is falling apart, about how stupid he is for having this occupying his head when there was a war to be worrying about. But even if they won, what was he coming back to?

He slipped the jersey over his head, watching it fall down his frame in the mirror and wondering how it was still big on him. He'd always been smaller than Fitz, but he assumed he'd grown. Apparently, not half as much as he'd thought. He tore his eyes away from his reflection before he dwelled on it for much longer.

It became habit, at some point along the way, to flip open his gold journal to a fresh, blank page and cover it with the sparkle in Fitz’s teal eyes as he looked at someone else, the swoop of his hair and the angles of his jaw. Today, however, when Keefe let the pencil in his hand guide him to whatever image his mind was creating, the slopes of nose smaller, his jaw softer, and his hair longer and slightly more unruly. Fitz was younger, and asleep, in the same jersey Keefe was wearing now.

If he closed his eyes it almost smelled like him.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Fitz…Fitz wake up.”

It was a solemn thing, to have to wake up the boy when he was so blissfully passed out, gentle features rounded out by the pillow underneath his head.

Keefe considered letting him sleep, but being only six years old made him increasingly impatient, and there wasn't much to do with his best friend snug asleep in the bed next to him. He sighed, sitting up and letting the blankets pool around him.

"Fitz. Fitz. Wake up loser," he whined, pushing the elder's shoulder. He only let out a groan in response.

After another shove and tearing off the covers to expose him to the cold air, Fitz blinked groggily, rubbing his eyes to make them focus on the blonde boy next to him. Keefe reached over to the bedside table and handed him his glasses.

Fitz mumbled something like a thank you, slipping them on and looking at him with tired confusion on his face. Keefe misses the look of it, he hadn't worn his glasses in years, but they'd always hold a special place in his heart, nestled right next to the beginnings of their friendship. "Is it the middle of the night?"

"No, I think it's morning," Keefe answered. "And I'm bored."

"Well, I think we should go to sleep again," Fitz decided, turning over and burying his bed head back into the pillows. Keefe wonders how he hadn't changed in the ten years since.

"No!" And he hadn't either. Not by much, besides their friendship holding on by a single thread.

Fitz groaned as Keefe pulled the blankets away again, bothering him as much as he could. "Keefe, you know if we sleep in a little longer Mom and Dad will let us just eat mallowmelt instead of breakfast?" he mentioned.

Keefe stopped his meddling abruptly. It never really was a hard task to get his attention, especially with food involved. "Really?"

"Oh yeah," Fitz confirmed. Keefe considered it for a moment, about to settle back into the bed before they heard footsteps coming down the hall. The boys widened their eyes at each other.

The two dove under the covers, doing their best attempt of faking sleep before the door unlocked.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The door swings open as Biana twirls in with at least six different cosmetics in her hands and a flowing purple dress barely hanging onto her shoulders. “Ah! Fitz, zip me up, will you?”

Fitz does as asked, moving her hair out of the way as she set all the products down on the bathroom counter and tries to find the lip gloss she wants. She settles on a light tint of purple that matches her dress.

“Where are you going?” Fitz questions, leaning back against the wall when he’s done.

“Dinner with the Dizznee’s. Haven’t really been able to spend time with them since school started,” she explains, rubbing her lips together.

“Right,” Fitz agrees, watching her flit about the bathroom, getting ready.

“How was Keefe earlier?”

“Oh.” Fitz doesn’t remember telling Biana what he was doing that morning, and something about her nonchalance was unsettling. He probably hadn’t told her at all. It wouldn’t be surprising, Biana knows everything there is to know about him anyways. Perhaps more than himself. “He was… Alright, I guess. I asked for my jersey back.”

Biana freezes. Her eyes fly across the mirror to look into his. “You did what?”

“I asked for it back. The jersey, from when we were kids,” Fitz clarifies.

She sighs, turning back to herself in the mirror. Her words are almost exasperated when she reminds, “You still are kids, you know. We all are. That’s why none of this works.”

Fitz could ask what she was referring to; the war? Being members of the Black Swan? Their friendships? He could ask, but he can tell with the tired look in her eyes that she means the latter.

“I don’t think I like Sophie,” he admits softly out of the blue. The words dance across the fragile ice in the air, like they’d break it and send everything crumbling if they wanted to. “No, I know I don’t.”

Biana’s responding chuckle melts the ice before they have a chance to crack it. “I think we knew that.”

Fitz freezes as the words flow through him. “You- what? Was I that much of a jerk?”

“Oh, she doesn’t know,” Biana corrects, working her deft fingers through her hair as she braids it back into a twisted bun. “You should let her know, kindly. But how could you have, honestly, with Keefe around.”

“I- I don’t know what you mean,” Fitz stutters, looking at her in the mirror with furrowed eyebrows. “Keefe’s my…friend.” Hardly. Was that really the message he sent to him earlier?

His sister’s hands drop from her hair as she spins to look him straight in the eyes. “Friends don’t use kisses as currency, Fitz.”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“If you come, I’ll kiss you.”

Fitz raised an eyebrow, making no move to get up from his arm chair. “And if I don’t?”

“I’ll never kiss you again!” Keefe decided, sitting on the chair’s arm. “It would be a shame though, I thought you said it was fun.”

“You’re seriously giving me an ultimatum about this?” Fitz questioned, dropping his book into his lap. Keefe nodded shamelessly, and the elder couldn’t help the smile growing on his face.

“It’s just a party, Fitz,” he pleaded, slipping down from the couch arm and landing next to Fitz. “We finished level 3, we deserve to celebrate a little.”

“We can leave after two hours if you get bored,” he added softly, studying the elder’s eyes. “I just wanted to go for a little bit. And I wanted to go with you.”

Fitz pretended to think for a moment, watching Keefe look up at him, wide-eyed and waiting patiently. Three years later, Fitz isn’t be able to remember the last time Keefe looked at him like that. He just misses it.

“I mean, a kiss?” he said after a moment, scrunching his nose. “You drive a hard bargain. How could I say no?”

Fitz doesn’t miss parties. He doesn’t miss the fake smiles and empty greetings, nor does he miss the noise and the lights and the small flaring headache afterwords. He does, however, miss Keefe.

Surprisingly for such a usually shy person, parties were Keefe’s scene. It was like all his introverted qualities flew out the window once he was in, and in contrast to Fitz, he loved the lights and the music. In the end, Fitz grew to like seeing the younger surrounded by it all.

Keefe also used parties as an even better excuse to flirt with anything that breathes. And more often than not, that ended up being Fitz. Not that he’d ever complain.

“Do you want to leave?” Keefe whispered quietly, leaving the crowd towards where Fitz sat blissfully alone. His hair was messier than when they’d arrived, like someone had run their hands through them, and Fitz’s jaw almost clenched until he remembered that no matter how confident Keefe got under bright lights and crowds, he wouldn’t let people get that close. Well, not anyone but him, of course.

“No I’m fine, go dance,” he waved off, sipping his lushberry juice. Keefe pouted instead.

“I want to dance with you,” he complained softly, tugging at the elder’s arms to get him off the chair.

“I don’t dance,” Fitz reminded, but his words didn’t match his actions as he put the glass down next to him and let Keefe pull him off the chair with a joyful smile.

The younger pulled him close, his lips almost brushing against Fitz’s ear as he whispered, “Thank you,” and Fitz would’ve kissed him again right there. Alas, there were people around, and he didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea.

He’d also rather not have his second kiss have a crowd. Everything was sweeter in secret, wasn’t it?

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

It was. It had to be. It was the same mantra Keefe had been repeating in his head that whole summer.

There was a reason they weren’t telling anyone. And it wasn’t because they were doing anything wrong. It was just a fun little joke. They tried it once, it felt nice, so they did it again. And again.

It was simple. It was a normal thing to do. No one would say otherwise if they knew. But…they didn’t really need to know either. Best not confuse them.

Keefe was confused enough already.

Fitz was growing taller. He had a few inches on Keefe already, and the younger despised it. Maybe he would’ve hated it less if the other didn’t constantly lord it over him, standing just close enough so Keefe had to tilt his head up to see him, resting his arm around Keefe’s shoulders like it belonged there. They’d been the same height since forever, and Keefe was not going to let himself go down like this.

Especially not considering the way his heart rate sped up when Fitz was leaning over him. He couldn’t let the elder hold that power against him, and he couldn’t let him know. So he took a deep breath and stayed calm when Fitz pushed him into a tree halfway through his tangent about how cool Alvar was.

“Well, that was rude,” Keefe huffed, trying not to shy away from the elder’s bright teal eyes as they stared down at him. “I was talking.”

“I don’t want to talk about Alvar,” Fitz responded, as if it was an excuse. His hand didn’t move from where it was pinned above Keefe’s shoulder.

“You know Fitz, there’s this thing called communication, where you use your words-”

The elder cut him off by layering his lips over Keefe’s in a sweet, chaste kiss that still left Keefe stunned and a little breathless when he pulled away. “I don’t really want to do that either.”

Keefe rolled his eyes, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah I can see that.” But he didn’t stop him from kissing him again.

Kissing Fitz was a pleasant thing when it didn’t leave Keefe spiraling down a hole of Why do you care so much? It was easy not to think, with Fitz’s lips on his, about his father, or his mentors, or any of the small things plauging his life when they pulled away. Kissing Fitz made it feel like he’d never have to go home, like this was his home, and he’d never have to leave. He never wanted to leave.

But those were the same thoughts that kept him up all night that whole summer, as relieving as they were in the moment. Fitz had always felt more like home than anything Keefe had ever called home his entire life. And if he was honest, he never wanted that to change. He never wanted them to change.

He never wanted whatever this was that they were doing to change. He didn’t like the thought of Fitz doing this with anyone else, being this comfortable with anyone else, or sharing his space this much with anyone else, but he had to face that that was the reality. Someday, Fitz would go marry some girl, and all of this, all these remenants of them would be left behind in the past. But Keefe didn’t want to think about all that. He just wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

Now, Keefe wishes it had lasted a little longer. But then they were in Level 4, and Fitz finally found Sophie, and their lives began to change so rapidly that Keefe just felt like he was along for the ride as everything he’d ever known turned upside-down and faded away.

Maybe Keefe had known back then too, that it wouldn’t last long, and that that day would have their last kiss, because when he’d pulled away, he’d asked, “You won’t forget me, right?”

Fitz had raised an eyebrow. “What? Where did that come from?”

“Nowhere, just-” Keefe looked back down at the ground as he caught his breath and sorted through his thoughts. “You won’t, right? Ever?”

The elder was only silent for a moment before he admitted, “Keefe, I couldn’t forget you if I tried.”

He was charming, Keefe would give him that. And it made him feel like a shy and red-cheeked kid all over again.

Sitting in his room years later, with the blush faded and rose-colored glasses lost, Keefe wonders if mememories like those haunted Fitz now, as he tries his hardest to forget him. If those promises meant nothing, and now both of them are nothing, it’s honestly better that they hadn’t told anyone. Looking back, they probably wouldn’t have understood anyways.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Just because you didn’t tell me doesn’t mean I never knew,” Biana continued on, ignoring Fitz’s frozen stare.

“But…how-”

“I’m your sister Fitz. And you kissed outside my bedroom once,” she admits, turning back to the mirror. "My point being, friends don’t do that.”

“Just because yours don’t-” Fitz cuts himself off as Biana gives him a sharp look in the mirror.

“You hear how ridiculous you sound, don’t you? There’s no point.” She continues pinning up her hair as she adds, “You love him."

Fitz gulps, watching himself go pale in the mirror. “That’s a strong word.”

“Yeah, and the right one," she agrees. "You’ve loved him since we were little kids, and you still do."

“You’re not an empath-" Fitz starts to argue, but Biana doesn’t want to hear it.

"I don’t have to be. I’m your sister," she reminds quaintly. "But he is an empath."

Fitz bites his lip subconsciously, going over the implication. "You think he knows?"

"No. I don't think he ever understood what your emotions meant, and he probably still doesn’t," she admits, looking through the products in front of her. "Especially not with you asking for the jersey back. Honestly, Fitz, what was that?"

"I just wanted all of this to be over," he answers shamefully, looking down at the floor so Biana's eyes in the mirror won’t rip him to pieces.

She slides over next to him, leaning against the wall as well. Her voice is the calmest thing wafting through his head when she speaks. "This is never going to be over unless you face your fears and try to figure out what you actually mean to each other."

It’s easy in theory. But the thought of actually acting on it is giving Fitz a massive headache. “How do I do that?”

“You think, Fitz. It’s a foreign concept, I know,” Biana chuckles, nudging him in the side to make him look at her. “Just sort through your memories. You have millions, we’ve been friends since he was 7. There has to be answer in there somewhere, even if its from when you were little.”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Keefe always considered himself a strong eight-year-old. He held his own even when his father battered him down, and he dusted it off with a sigh and moved on. No one helped, definitely not his mom, but that was okay. Keefe could handle it.

He was sure of that. He really could handle it, he had so many times before, watching his father tear up his doodles and drawings, scold him for his childish acts when in the back of his head he couldn’t help wonder, Am I not still a child? but was too terrified to ask. He would draw more. They would get ripped up again. It was a fine, easy cycle.

He practically lived with the Vackers, regardless of how much his father nagged at him. It was the one thing Keefe liked that he supported. Keefe didn’t know why, but he learned early on not to question the good things. Fitz and Biana were a safe space, and he would take that gladly. Being at Everglen practically erased whatever distressing moment had taken place right before, and it was easy to laugh, move on, and play bramble without a second thought. It always was.

So why wasn’t it today?

Maybe it was because the drawing was a special one. Him and Fitz, sitting by the edge of the lake, small feet swinging over the water and wind brushing through their hair. He hadn’t even gotten to finish coloring it yellow and brown before his father had snatched it up without a second thought and shredded to pieces without even looking at it. He wouldn’t dare encourage any sort of foolishness.

The drawing stayed pinned in the back of his mind though, he had his photographic memory to thank for that, and he couldn’t help but feel the slightest remorse as he thought about it, even in Fitz’s room, far away from the man who’d ruined it all in the first place. It was a pretty drawing. It would’ve looked even better finished.

Fitz might have liked it.

Keefe didn’t notice the tears dripping down his cheeks until Fitz made a surprised noise, sitting in front of him with concern etched between his brows, looking far too mature for a nine-year-old.

“Oh,” Keefe realized, wiping his cheek with small hands. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Fitz responded, teal eyes peeled open wide as he watched him. “Are you upset?”

“Only a little. It’s not a big deal,” Keefe tried to wave off. But Fitz, even at this young of an age, was always a gentlemen, and waited silently and encouragingly for Keefe to explain further.

“It’s just…my dad tore apart a drawing I made,” he elaborated, eyes steaming as the tears started coming down faster. He wiped his hands against his cheek more furiously. “I didn’t even get to finish it.”

“Why would your dad do that?” Fitz asked catiously, tilting his head with the curiousty of a young kitten.

Keefe wonders how, even at eight years old, he’d known that Fitz was a Vacker, and because of that he’d never truly understand. “He doesn’t like it when I draw.”

Fitz was silent then, and Keefe was too busy trying to stop his crying to realize, but suddenly small arms were pulling him into a warm embrace and the tear gates flooded, making him give up. “I think it’s really cool that you can draw.”

The younger tried to choke out a thank you, but the tears were choking him and he couldn’t do anything but cry into his friend’s shoulder, letting him hold him and save him from everything that waited outside of his arms, in this room, and back at home. None of it mattered if he had this, anyways. His parents didn’t matter, if there was still someone willing to hold him together. And of course that someone was Fitz.

And of course he’d ask, like always, “Want a blitzenberry muffin?”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Make me blitzenberry muffins.”

“Is that an order?” Fitz questioned, his eyebrow raising as he continued folding his tunics.

Keefe sighed dramatically, throwing himself across the elder’s bed and distracting him. “Can it be? I’m so sick of these books and I need something to bring my dampened spirits up.”

“Dampened spirits, wow, you’re a poet, Keefe,” Fitz applauded, sitting down next to him. The empath flipped his head up towards him, blonde splashing against the green sheets. “What do you even read about? Isn’t empathy kind of straight forward?”

“Not really. Just because I can feel what you’re feeling doesn’t mean I know what it is. For instance-” Keefe laced his hand through Fitz’s, startling him. “Something creepy crawly is going on in your stomach right now, but you’re head’s kinda fuzzy. I think that’s happiness?”

Fitz stopped himself from blushing. “I think so too.” Keefe grinned.

“See, it’s not like the words just come flying at me. People feel emotions differently, which makes it harder to decipher what someone else is feeling. Some emotions are easy, but others, not so much.” He sat up, keeping their hands intertwined. Fitz tried not to stare. “All those books are just theory, trying to teach you certain tells so you can guess emotions more easily. And then like…philosophy or whatever.”

“Sounds atrociously boring,” the elder commented, tearing his eyes away from their hands and getting lost in the sharp blue of Keefe’s eyes instead.

He didn’t seem to notice, huffing. “It is. That’s why I want muffins.”

“Valid.” Fitz stood up, yanking the younger along with him towards his room door. “Do you know where the kitchens around here are?”

“Calla showed me one the other day when you were staring into Sophie’s eyes or whatever,” Keefe grumbled. Fitz wonders if it was jealousy, or maybe that was just his wishful thinking. Just because he’s reinspecting their story didn’t mean he can add in details about Keefe that were never really there.

But the tightening grip on his hand was there, ever present, and Fitz hopes that Keefe didn’t notice his heart rate spike right then and there. Had he been that obvious all along? With an empath no less.

Keefe pulled him out of the treehouse and ran down the steps, pulling along Fitz just like he would when they were in Everglen, young and blissfully unaware of how dangerous the world really was. The worst problem at the time must have been Keefe’s parents.

In a bitter, unsurprising way, Fitz remembered they still were.

“There we are, the splendid gnomish kitchens,” Keefe presented with a flourish, cheeky smile flitting across his face as he walked over to the pantry. It was a kitchen alright, but everything was draped in browns and greens, giving the area a very much earthy vibe to it. Fitz loved it immediatley.

Blitzenberry muffins were routine, and soon enough the batter was being mixed together in a bowl with Keefe sitting on the counter, licking the finger he’d just dipped in without permission and Fitz shaking his head with a smile, always unable to put on a stern face at the younger’s antics. They made him feel rather normal, anyways. Like they weren’t teenage runaways or rebels or anything of the sort.

Keefe stared off into the distance as his finger left his mouth, and Fitz stared at him, watching his eyes glaze and something hard to decipher appear in them. It wasn’t the first time. Something about Keefe had been off lately, like he’d been thinking too much. There was enough to think about anyways, with his mom captured by ogres and his dad waiting back home. Even the pendant around his neck was enough to send him spiraling.

It was silent for a little too long, and Keefe’s eyes were getting a little too glassy, making the elder feel the need to interupt. “Are you okay-” Fitz started, then a tuft of white blurred his vision like a bakery-smelling blizzard. He coughed, daring to open his eyes wide to a sheepish looking Keefe with flour-stained hands.

“Sorry.” He didn’t look sorry at all. “Intrusive thoughts.”

Fitz smiled right back, acutely aware of how ridiculous he must have looked as he slowly raised a large handful of flour from behind Keefe using telekineses, then promptly dropped it on his head. “Sorry. Intrusive thoughts.”

Keefe wiped his eyes in disbelief. “Don’t start with me.”

“You’re the one who started it!”

The younger didn’t seem to hear as more flour flew through the air, soon beginning to cover the entire kitchen in white. They ducked and hid behind the counter, laughed loudly like no one could hear them, smiled so hard their cheeks hurt from the motion. Fitz misses the feeling, misses being the cause of Keefe’s ectastic smiles instead of his nervous frowns. He misses the freedom, the moments they shared like this where there wasn’t a single other person in the world but each other, not another pair of eyes he’d ever care to look into. There wasn’t anything to see.

He misses Keefe. And his hair and his smirk and everything he’d been working hard to ignore and weave into their history just to leave them there, where they belong. But how could they belong there if Biana was right?

How could he forget about Keefe when he’d known him since they were kids?

“You’re my best friend,” Fitz spoke, breathless watching the white powder float down in the air around them like snow, like the winters they’d spent as children by the lake with ice skating and never ending adventure. Keefe was his best friend then too. Hadn’t he always been?

Hadn’t he always loved him?

“Yeah. Obviously.” Keefe smiled, shaking the flour out of his hair in Fitz’s direction, but the action was boyish enough to make his foolish heart long for a past they couldn’t reach back into. At least they had moments like this.

Not forever though.

“Nothing’s going to change, not for me and you,” Keefe added, smile softening and making the other’s heart melt right out of his ribcage.

Fitz wishes he hadn’t lied.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Leaping to Everglen is something Keefe is used to, but leaping straight onto the property will never fail to catch him off guard now that the gates have been taken away. Just another testament to how much has changed.

The way to Fitz’s room didn’t, however, so Keefe’s steps are a trail he’d walked many times before, straight down to the same door he had spent so much his childhood hidden behind. The jersey in his hands weighs more than it should, like instead of just giving back a piece of cloth, he’s about to hand over their past and everything they’d ever known. His place behind that door.

Or maybe he’s just overthinking it. Maybe he’s spent the whole day overthinking it, like the dramatic little boy he is. Things change, Keefe, the voice in his head reminds. You have to too.

He takes a deep breath, steels his face, and knocks before he can back out and leave it in Biana’s room with a note like a loser.

“Come in.” Keefe does.

The room is dark. His eyes take a moment to adjust before he notices Fitz buried underneath the blankets of his bed, staring blankly at the dark ceiling. Teal eyes lift themselves up to catch his. “Oh.”

It isn;t a bad oh, but it certainly not a good one either, and Keefe finds himself wanting to leave even faster than he came. “I found the jersey, I just thought I’d drop it o-”

“No, keep it,” Fitz decides, pushing himself up to a sitting position so he’s leaning against his pillows.

Keefe blinks in confusion. “What?”

“Keep the jersey, I don’t want it back,” he repeats, but Keefe still doesn’t understand. That isn’t what he had said that morning. All he said was that he wanted it returned!

“But you-”

“I was wrong,” Fitz shruggs. The younger can’t see him too clearly in the dark but if he’sstill wearing his nonchalant perfect Vacker smile, Keefe’s going to have a meltdown.

Or maybe he is regardless. “What do you want from me?”

Fitz might frown, Keefe can’t tell, but he sounds startled when he responds. “What do you mean?”

“I try to go and apologize to you for everything, and you don’t even let me start before you’re asking for the jersey back, and now you don’t want it anymore?!” Keefe catches his breath, eyes burning. “What were you wrong about? I wouldn’t want to be around me either.”

“I never said tha-”

“You didn’t have to.” Keefe drops the jersey to the ground, trying to keep the tears from falling out of his eyes. “I can’t even pretend to know what’s going on in your head anymore, Fitz, but that’s exactly what you wanted. And I can’t blame you, I’ve screwed this up two more times than I should have.”

“I missed you. Both times, but especially this last one. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I left and…” Keefe shakes his head, sighing under his breath. He’d practiced this more than enough times before today but here he is, and the words have run off once more, leaving his mouth dry. “I didn’t mean it like that. I would do so many things for you, Fitz, but I couldn’t stay. And I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry I can’t be someone you still want.”

“Keefe that’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.” A record player scratches in Keefe’s mind, prompting him to look up again. Fitz is climbing out of his bed as he speaks. “Of course I still want you. I spent so much time missing you, and convincing myself you would be okay, and that all of this would be okay that I didn’t even stop to notice that it wasn’t. I don’t want the jersey back, because I want it to be with you. I want you to have the memories-”

“I don’t want memories,” he interrupts. Fitz stops right in front of him, looking down at his eyes and making Keefe gulp. That godforsaken height difference will never go away, will it? “I… That summer, I don’t know if I was imagining it but-”

Fitz grabs his hand and suddenly Keefe is hit with purple butterflies and crimson vines wrapping their way around his chest tight enough to suffocate him. “You’re not imagining anything.”

If those are Fitz’s emotions he’s feeling, and if he’s looking into his eyes like that, and if he’d meant it all back then, then maybe there isn’t much to make excuses for anymore when he leans in.

Keefe had missed it, the feeling of Fitz so close, his emotions flowing through the younger’s veins, so much stronger now, so much more desperate. Like they’d been starved for too long. Even the stupid bend in his neck when Fitz tilts his head up with a hand on his chin is nostalgic in a way.

It’s still dark, but that doesn’t stop Fitz’s eyes from twinkling when they separate, noses so close they were touching. Keefe could feel his breath hit his cheek as he whispered, tracing a finger along his cheekbones. “It’s always been you.”

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